Standing Outside a Southern Riot
by rebelriotgrrrl
Summary: A/U: Popular!Blaine and Badboy!Kurt collide when confused, handsome jock Blaine meets out & proud but very bitter transfer student Kurt. What starts off as a tense relationship quickly dissolves into passion but can Blaine face what this means for his identity and family pressures- & more than that, can Kurt learn to trust enough to fully let Blaine into his life? Angst/Smut/Fluff
1. Is This It

**A/N: ****A brief note to say sorry this chapter isn't really action-packed or anything, but this story is just getting off its feet. I have big plans for where it will go, so please stick around and maybe you'll see something you like. I welcome all questions, reviews and feedback from my readers. :) Obviously, I don't own Glee or any of its characters; the only thing I own are the twisted little scenarios I come up for them to enact in my head. Also, sorry there's no mention of Kurt yet in this chapter, or any Klaine interaction, but I promise the next chapter will bring plenty. Until then, stay tuned!**

* * *

_Can't you see I'm trying?_  
_ I don't even like it. I just lied to_  
_ Get to your apartment, now I'm staying_  
_ Here just for a while_  
_ I can't think 'cause I'm just way too tired_

-"Is This It" by The Strokes

It was late Monday afternoon when the curly-haired boy with the golden-hazel eyes stepped onto his skateboard and pushed off onto the sidewalk, leaving the molding walls of his dreaded high school to melt into the sunset behind him. He had finished up his homework for the evening during detention- a detention which he still felt he had unjustly been assigned- but had served nevertheless. Coach Sylvester had barked it at him for allegedly engaging in PDA with his girlfriend in the hallways which was, in the Coach's words, "not only against school policy but an abomination so horrendous to all within eyesight that if a laser eye surgery had been yet invented to burn certain images out of my retinas, this would be the first thing to go."

Coach Beiste had protested, wanting Blaine present for football practice. A big game was coming up; Blaine was a star player. When Sue Sylvester had locked horns with her over the matter, Beiste wasn't quick to back down, but Sue pointed out that Blaine's activities had been in direct violation of the student handbook and Coach Beiste new that Principal Figgins would side with her.

"Maybe next time you should teach your players to save their precious energy for your little ball games rather than wasting it all swapping bodily fluids with other disgusting, greasy and equally coated-in-product teenagers," Sue had said to the coach with a sneer, and Blaine accepted his fate.

His girlfriend had, of course, gotten out of it, simply because she _was_ a member of the cheerleading squad and if Sue wasn't all for the special treatment of her Cheerios, she certainly wouldn't have gained the reputation she did around school. Half the squad had joined simply because it seemed safer to have Coach Sylvester as a hated "mentor" rather than a distant enemy.

But that didn't stop Quinn Fabray from being furious with her boyfriend.

"Another detention Blaine? Do you know what happens when you reach five?"

Blaine sighed. Yes, he knew. And Quinn knew he knew. Her condescension made a nauseous anger bubble in his throat, but he bit his tongue. She talked to him with so little respect, and he couldn't help but be reminded of the way his mother spoke to his father. Nothing that hard-working and honest Jack Anderson did was ever enough to satisfy the demands of his princess mother Helena. She had grown up spoiled by a rich daddy and married Jack because he had a promising future ahead of him. Little did she know that his honorableness would always win out over his desire for money and power, eventually resulting in Blaine's father losing his position with one of the most prestigious law firms in the state, leaving the family with almost no money to speak of, and forcing them to move from their fancy brownstone in Westerville to a quiet little town called Lima. His mother was furious with his father; she had wanted him to go along with the demands the firm had made of him, illegal and dishonest though they might be, and keep their family wealthy. Helena would never forgive Jack for what he had reduced her to. She demeaned him and belittled at every chance she got, furious that she had wasted her life marrying a deadbeat like him, an idiot with his head in the clouds, far more interested in chasing his silly little dreams of "making a difference" and "doing the right thing" than making any real money.

But as far as Helena was concerned, there was still hope for Blaine, and Blaine was keenly aware of the pressure this placed on him. As long as Blaine kept up his grades and stayed top of his class and top of the school, he had a promising future ahead of him, maybe a scholarship to an Ivy League, a corner office with a big window, established firmly and comfortably in some big corporation, earning lots of money and bringing back some power to the family name. Helena was bitter about how her life had not played out as she expected, with her playing rich housewife to a successful businessman. But at least if Blaine could construct a noteworthy life for himself, she might still get that beach house on Nantucket for when Jack retired, and they would be set as they grew old. Blaine would take care of them, and more importantly, he would restore respect to the name Anderson.

It was like his girlfriend and his mother were cut from the same material. Both his mother and Quinn were constantly breathing down his neck about things like keeping his GPA perfect, studying for the SATs so he could get into a top school, staying involved in extracurricular activities like the Glee club and student council, and most importantly, being the captain of the football team. Blaine didn't care much for most of those activities, but he knew he could never let that be known to the women in his life. It was easiest- no, it was _best_- to do as they said.

Of course, that meant that things like detentions were out of the question. Which explained Quinn's furious reaction to the one he had received this afternoon. It had been his second detention of the term; he wasn't even close to getting a Saturday, but it had meant he had missed practice, and missing it too many times could get him kicked off the team. Little did Quinn seem to remember that it was _she_ who had been forcing her tongue into his mouth while simultaneously mashing her hand against his crotch that had sent Coach Sylvester into a frenzy. Nope: Blaine was to blame and he would paying for it with Quinn for a solid week at least. He only hoped as he skated home that word wouldn't somehow get back to his mom.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Blaine checked his watch as he coasted down the little backstreets of Lima, Ohio, the drifting sun setting the leafy green trees around him all aglow. The watch had a rich brown leather band and was an Emporio Armani- a Christmas present from Quinn, of course.

"Just because your dad lost his position doesn't mean you have to dress like it," she'd said as she fastened the band around his wrist. His mother had cooed in delight when she had seen the gift. The watch cost hundreds of dollars, even on sale.

"That girl has a good eye," she had told Blaine, directing a pointed glare in his father's direction. And then she lowered her voice slightly.

"You find a girl like that, you hold onto her Blaine. The Fabrays are a good family; they stuck by us even when your jackass father lost everything."

It was true. The Fabrays were part of the reason the Andersons had picked Lima to move to. Although it was a small town, high society still had its place there, and Helena's college best friend and her husband just happened to be amongst them. They also had a daughter- a beautiful, blonde, intelligent daughter, whom Blaine had known since childhood. Helena and Margaret had talked after Jack was fired. Margaret felt bad for her friend; she could see what a bind she was in. And it was obvious that Blaine was a smart, sensitive boy, as well as handsome. He would be kind to Quinn, and more importantly, successful. Margaret promised to help Helena out- keep her family's money situation quiet, get them into the most exclusive social circles in Lima, if Helena could get her son to date Quinn, keeping her safe from the ever-abundant Neanderthals that might attempt to woo her. Blaine had a lot of potential. He would do well; he would not make the same mistakes his father had. And what could be better than Quinn marrying the attractive son of her best friend?

Helena could not have been more pleased with this deal and so, she had eagerly pushed the two together. It didn't take long for the relationship to soloidify and once it did, Helena did no end of snooping and prodding to make sure that Blaine held up her end of the bargain. Blaine was fairly easy going, but Helena knew her son and could tell he wasn't entirely sold on the girl. So she took it upon herself to remind him of Quinn's attributes as often as she could.

"Quinn can help make you into the successful business man your father never was. She's got the shrewd eye and sharp sense that you don't. If you don't want to end up a failure like your dad, you're going to want that girl around," she'd murmured before finally releasing his wrist then from her death grip with one last greedy glance at the watch and walking back into the kitchen to refill her wine glass. Blaine had heard her threat without her having to explicitly state it. He had better keep on dating Quinn or else. He was going to be in big trouble.

As Blaine looked at the gleaming surface as it shown now in the sunlight, he noted once again that the watch wasn't really his type. Sure, he couldn't deny the exquisite craftsmanship or uniqueness of the design- but this watch was, well, _elegant. _His style was more quirky and comfortable. Quinn was well aware of this of course, but leave it to her to try to change Blaine's sense of fashion with designer gifts and not-so-subtle verbal hints every day at school. At least most days he could get away with wearing his letterman jacket, giving him an excuse to dress comfortably without Quinn complaining, though he had to admit, the jacket had never felt quite right on him.

But no matter. He had little care for clothes these days. In fact, he had little care for anything. There had been a time when he had felt inspired by life. It wasn't that he could remember that time, so much as he knew it had existed. All his childhood report cards said that Blaine was the happiest kid in the class. Every elementary school photo of him showed him laughing and joking, his curls running wild over his head, a little boy constantly on the move, constantly looking for new things out of life in which to delight himself.

There was an old trunk in the attic, which Blaine had found one day while searching for his old pair of skis to sell. He was surprised his mother had kept it all these years, even more surprised that she had deigned it important enough to accompany them in the move to Lima. The trunk was chock full of Blaine's old things: drawings from when he had been younger, model airplanes he had built himself from scratch, paintings and sketches and origami creatures, a fleet of wooden boats his father had helped him to carve and paint, a kite he had built, paper-plate masks he had made, and what seemed like hundreds of other little odds and ends of that nature. He had been a creative child, brimming, it seemed, with energy and ideas. He had been so excited about life; it was obvious in the old photo albums. Pictures of him fishing with Jack, smiling triumphantly as he grasped a silver wide-mouth bass that was nearly half the size that he was. Pictures of him dressed up in plastic armor, wielding a sword ferociously, yet unable to keep the grin off his face as his helmet slipped down over his forehead, pushing his unruly curls into his eyes.

And then- pictures of him at the piano. His grandmother had been the one who had taught him to play, but it been so long ago, he had almost forgotten. Music had been a passion of his, once upon a time. He remembered the songs his Grandma used to sing, the way she used to place her wrinkled hands over his pudgy ones to guide his fingers to the right note. He dug some more and found at the bottom of the trunk, his old music books. For some reason that he couldn't quite explain, he had taken them and placed them carefully in his backpack. He felt like he wanted them again, not that he still remembered how to play. But it had given him joy, briefly, on that afternoon. Just knowing they were still around, and he had them, filled him with a sense of possibility that he had no understanding of.

That was the last time Blaine remembered feeling truly excited- or even happy- about anything. But since then the books had remained untouched, in a hidden pocket of his backpack, more or less forgotten.

He suddenly remembered the books and felt for them, heaving out in relief as his fingers brushed the tops of the crisp books. Blaine felt himself suddenly overpowered with an odd urge. He checked his watch again. Five o'clock. By now, the school would be all but closed up, except for the athletes cleaning up in the locker rooms after practice. A practice that he should have been at- he remembered with a slight stab of guilt. But what he really had him disappointed was the fact that it was too late to go back and try and steal some time to fool around on the piano in the music room. He hiked his backpack back up on his shoulders and continued skateboarding with new determination.

He would get to school early tomorrow and see if he still remembered anything his grandmother had taught him.


	2. Does It Scare You

**A/N: See look! Another update on the same day! I promise I'll try not to leave people hanging. And you know what will encourage me to write even faster? FEEDBACK! Just so I know someone's out there! Once again, not a lot of action in this chapter, but we get to meet Kurt finally and see how his dynamic with Blaine is going to be. And I would say it's preeeeeetty interesting so far. But then again, I'm a little biased.**

* * *

_Hey girl,__  
__This is how I ride__, l__ook at my style__  
__You can stay a while__  
__Hey girl,__  
__This is what I do__, d__oes it scare you?__  
__And does it make you wanna do the same thing too?__  
__Or are you scared of everything?_

-Hey Girl by Raiomand Mirza ft. Vivienne Pocha

As planned, Blaine got to school early the next day- a full hour before he had to be in homeroom. He was hesitant to go inside. What if the teachers saw him and got suspicious? Sure, he was a good student, but he wasn't a square. He definitely wasn't the type of student to get there a whole hour early. Even though the choir room didn't belong to Sue, it was still likely that Coach Sylvester would still be lurking around outside there and she could get Blaine busted in a heartbeat. For some reason which Blaine didn't understand, the Cheerios coach seemed to hate him with a passion more extreme than she hated the other football players.

Blaine circled the parking lot once on his skateboard to try and get an idea of which teachers were already inside the building. To his surprise and relief, neither Principal Figgins', nor Sue's specially designated, horrifically decorated parking spot were occupied as of yet. And the student lot was, of course, almost entirely empty.

Blaine flipped his skateboard up gracefully with his toe and caught it in one hand when he saw smoke drifting from beneath the bleachers to his right. He took a whiff. He wasn't one to really smoke pot on the regular- he had too much to lose- but something about this day had his nerves on edge. Maybe just one hit would calm him down.

He wandered toward the bleachers, already glinting silver as the autumn sunrise began to coat the western side of the school, making the dew-covered turf glitter and sparkle. The scent of the leaves in the crisp air reminded him why this was his favorite season and he stopped for a moment of nostalgia, before the strong musk of marijuana smacked him in the face again. Right. He was stalling he knew, but he just didn't feel ready to enter the school. Better to put in some time hanging out with the school deadbeats. It was true he was a jock, so most of them didn't really run in his circle, but at the same time, most of the stoners and punks really liked him. He was chill, easy to get along with, funny. He liked them too, because he didn't have to make much conversation with them. They didn't ask him questions and he didn't ask them questions. They just smoked, and laughed. When he was with them, all the other shit didn't really seem so heavy.

He still approached their little hideout cautiously, knowing he hadn't hung with them in a while, and they were pretty wary of anyone approaching their hangout. He whistled softly three times as he got closer. It was an old signal they used to use to know who was safe. He got a whistle in return which prompted him to crouch down and carefully ease himself across the dirt, pine needles and empty slushy cups and fry cartons until he reached a particularly dark section towards the middle.

In the mist and the shadows of the morning lounged a gangly group of about seven or eight kids, sitting more or less in a circle and staring up at Blaine with vaguely interested expressions, if they even looked at him at all.

One of them, finally, spoke out, his voice thick with the smoke he had just inhaled from a joint that sat smoldering in his left hand.

"Bro."

"Sup," Blaine said in response, nodding casually at the rugged boy with the Mohawk. Noah Puckerman, better known as Puck, was sort of the leader of this ragtag group of rebels. He was McKinley High's resident badass, and subsequently, a ladies man to boot. He had played for the football team for his freshman and most of his sophomore year, but been kicked off for possession of alcohol shortly before the season ended. Blaine had been new then, had only played on the same team as Puck for a couple of months before, as Puck liked to put it, "shit hit the fan." They had always been friendly though, especially since Puck knew that Blaine occasionally liked to indulge in a little "herbal remedy", especially during the middle of his junior year, when things at home were particularly stressful. Puck had been there for him in a way he wasn't sure his football buddies would have been.

"Haven't seen you in a long time Anderson," Puck said, exhaling a near perfect ring of gray around his face.

Blaine kicked at the dirt, trying to think of something to say before Puck spoke again.

"Probably too busy screwing the brains out of that pretty little blonde cheerleader you bagged. Assuming she's given it up by now. Man I hope she has. Cause it would truly be a shame to let that piece of ass…"

"Shut up Puckerman."

It wasn't Blaine who said this, though he knew it should have been. But honestly, he had little respect for his girlfriend. Puck could talk about her as graphically as he wanted for all he cared. Though, to be honest, he didn't really feel like going into detail about their sex life. But the words had been spoken by a smooth-skinned Latina girl whom Blaine knew as one of Quinn's more rebellious friends- one of the few girls who could easily transition between the cheerleaders and the stoners without missing a beat.

Santana flicked the ashes of a joint onto Puck's arm, causing him to wince and yell in protestation.

"You're just jealous that Quinn's hot ass is something you ain't never gonna get your hands all up on." Santana looked Blaine up and down appreciatively and licked her lips in an open manner that Blaine could tell he was meant to notice.

"To be honest Anderson, when she first told me you two were exclusive, I thought the girl was tripping. But the more I see you, especially out there on that field in that football jersey and those little tight pants…phew!" She fanned herself dramatically. "Let's just say your ass might be even finer than hers."

"Hey Satan, Hockey-Head, isn't it a little bit early for all this talk of asses?" an airy yet disinterested voice mused from the corner.

Much to his embarrassment, Blaine gave a visible start at the voice that emerged from an area of the bleachers he had previously thought empty. He now noticed that it was very far from empty; instead, a pale boy dressed all in black with perfectly-coiffed hair sat leaning back against the bleachers, his long legs stretched out and propped against each other in front of him. Blaine stared. He didn't recognize him.

Puck spoke up. "Settle down Hummel. Out of the all people here who would appreciate some talk about asses, I'd think you'd be the first."

The boy- Hummel?- merely grunted in reply, before noticing that Blaine was still staring at him. "Something I can do for you Curly-Q?"

Blaine shook his head dumbly, wondering where his voice had gotten to. "No- I'm, it's just- I don't think we've met."

"Oh Bro," Puck nodded his head in the pale boys direction. "This is Kurt. He moved here right after school got out last year; we've been partying together all summer. But I've known him for a while. Friends with his brother. You know him actually-"

"Stepbrother," Kurt emphasized, not even bothering to glance at Blaine.

"Right. Right." Was it Blaine, or did Puck almost sound a little bit nervous? "Yeah Kurt's dad just married Finn Hudson's mom."

Things clicked a little bit for Blaine now. Finn Hudson played on the football team with him. He vaguely recalled him mentioning something about his mom remarrying last spring. So this was the new step-brother. Huh. Weird kid.

"Oh sure, I remember Finn talking about that. Cool. Well I'm gonna bail. Just wanted to say hey to you guys."

"You're not here to get a couple hits?" Puck asked in surprise.

"Nah, I've- I've actually got a meeting with a…teacher," Blaine finished lamely.

"Dude, a teacher? You turning into a goody-goody or what?"

"No way Man. You know I've just got to keep my shit together this year." Blaine scratched at his curls and wondered why this crowd, which usually relaxed him so much, was making him so anxious all of a sudden.

"Ah. Fuck, yeah. Senior year and all that shit. Pretty sure I'm gonna have to repeat senior year," Puck said, his eyes closed as he took another hit.

"Repeat senior year? Dude, it's only two weeks into the first term."

"Yes but Hockey-Head over here tries to keep it so his goals aren't entirely unreasonable," Kurt replied, again sounding bored, and again not looking at Blaine.

"Hey Man." Puck looked slightly offended for a moment, before relaxing into the dirt again. "Ah, Dude's right. Let's face it. It's a miracle I've made it this far without staying back a year."

Blaine laughed good-naturedly, knowing he wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. This Kurt kid was unsettling him more and more by the minute. The way he was just…lying there, the way he wasn't even looking at Blaine, the strange pitch of his voice. Besides, Blaine had somewhere to be anyway.

"Listen Bro," he said to Puck, "I'm sure you'll be fine. You ever need a tutor for your English class, you let me know."

"Thanks Dude." Blaine turned and crawled back to the edge of the bleachers, hearing Puck chuckling quietly with Santana. "Anderson's a good dude. I just forgot how early in the year it was. Give it a couple months and he'll be showing up here regularly again."

Blaine felt as though he should be affronted by Puck's comment, but once again, he felt nothing. He pinched himself, wondering for a brief, silly moment, if this wasn't some weird kind of dream. His emotions were all out of whack.

It wasn't until he was back in the school parking lot again that he realized with a mental smack to the forehead that he now reeked of weed. And that someone had followed him.

A hand extended out toward him, holding a tiny glass bottle full of an amber colored liquid.

"What's this?" Blaine managed, as he realized that the hand extending the gift belonged to none other than that unsettling Hummel guy.

Kurt sniffed superiorly. "Cologne Dumbass. Here." He unscrewed the cap of the little bottle and grabbed Blaine's wrists, gently dabbing a drop on each.

"Rub some behind your ears and your neck for good measure," Kurt told him.

"Well you're awfully prepared."

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "Can't have Mommy Dearest smelling the satanic scent of mild, herbal recreational drugs on her precious new stepson now can we?"

"I take it you don't love your new mom."

"Calling her my new mom is an insult to my mother's good name," Kurt said rather viciously.

Blaine still had to hold back his surprise that the boy was talking to him or had followed him at all, but he couldn't help interjecting.

"It sucks your parents divorced, but I've met Mrs. Hudson a couple times and she really doesn't seem all that bad-"

Kurt shut him down with a stare that immediately made his heart grow cold and Blaine noticed for the first time just what a piercing shade of blue this strange boy's eyes were.

"Sorry. I suppose I shouldn't talk about things I don't know anything about."

"That's right, you shouldn't," Kurt replied, and Blaine felt his chest expand slightly with relief that Kurt was still talking to him.

They said nothing but both continued toward the school. Blaine finally got a good look at Kurt. The kid was tall, as Blaine had noted by his long legs that had seemed too lengthy and graceful to be crammed into a space as small as that of under the bleachers. He was also dressed to- well, intimidate. Blaine couldn't help but feel a quiver ripple through his abdomen as he drank in the sight of Kurt's full ensemble. Black jeans with rips so big in some places, it seemed at least a foot of his flesh was showing. The jeans hugged every bit of the boy's musculature, leaving very little about his physique- or his- endowment- to the imagination. No wonder the kid was confident. And his shirt. It was tight too, probably a kid's size medium Blaine guessed, and it rode up slightly around his midriff, exposing just a sliver of his pale stomach, the space right where a line of brown hair trailed down disappearing below his jeans, which were fastened onto him with a silver studded black leather belt.

The shirt had cut off sleeves and was ripped a solid third of the way down Kurt's chest. It had some words scrawled on it in white that Blaine couldn't quite make out. He had a leather necklace wrapped around his neck with a hammered silver medallion in the center, coupled also with a few thin chains that slipped down beneath his shirt. A leather vest and combat boots completed the outfit making Kurt look somehow even more badass and menacing that Puck usually did. Perhaps it was in the coldness of his eyes, which he had now covered up with a pair of aviators, or the starting paleness of his skin. Blaine was in awe.

"All done staring Curly-Q or would you like me to strike a pose?"

"Fuck man." Blaine was embarrassed and it was obvious. "I wasn't staring."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself. Why are you here so early anyway if you weren't here to smoke?"

"Told you. Meeting with a teacher."

Kurt scoffed. "Like anyone believes that."

Oddly enough, Blaine wanted to tell this kid the truth, but he was sure he would laugh at him.

"You tell me first. What are you doing here this early?"

Kurt jammed his thumb back in the direction of the bleachers. "Getting my high on. Obviously."

"I don't believe you either."

Blaine thought he saw the beginnings of the first genuine smile Kurt had shown him forming on the corners of the kid's mouth, before they disappeared again.

"Well you're going to be a challenge, aren't you Curly -Q?"

"My name's Blaine," Blaine said in vague frustration.

"Blaine," The boy in black tried the word out on his tongue before shaking his head. "I think I'll stick with Curly-Q if you don't mind."

"Like we'll be seeing a lot of each other anyway, Punk." Blaine was pissed now. Who did this little asshole think he was anyway? Coming in and trying to rule the school that Blaine was already king of. "We don't exactly run in the same social circle, alright Kid? In case you didn't know, let me give you the low down. I'm captain of the football team. I've got a 4.3 GPA and I'm set to graduate valedictorian of the senior class. Plus, my girlfriend Quinn is captain of the cheerleading squad and the hottest piece of ass outside of Columbus."

"A piece of ass that you're not fucking." Kurt smirked.

"What did you say?" Blaine felt himself fuming. Why the fuck was this kid able to get under his skin this way?

"Oh I think you heard me. But I guess I can repeat it if you like. You. Aren't. Fucking. Your. Girlfriend."

"I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, but I'm done chatting."

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone else. If you tell me something."

"Seriously Man. Shut the fuck up. You're already walking on thin ice and I wouldn't mess with me. I'm pretty much the shit around here. I say the word, you get your ass handed to you. And not in the way you enjoy, pretty boy." Blaine hoped this last part would really get to the kid. Gay jokes always cut to the core, and Blaine was pretty sure this guy had to be some sort of fag. No straight dude would talk the way he talked, dress the way he dressed or _walk_ the way he…

Blaine shook his head. Kurt was laughing.

"You really think you're going to get to me with a fag comment? Please. I've had millions where that came from. And by this point, I've learned to take care of myself pretty well. And I'm fucking proud to be a faggot. I guarantee I can suck cock better than your whole cheerleading squad combined. So excuse me if I'm not ashamed of _my_ sexuality."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Blaine's fists began to clench but he realized Kurt had put a great deal of distance between them and was now walking casually backwards towards a motorcycle parked at the far end of the student lot.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it Curly-Q. You just keep focusing on keeping up that 4.3 and keeping that-" he gestured toward Blaine's crotch, "down. Though I'm sure it hasn't been much of a problem so far." He continued laughing as he climbed on his bike, his ass stretched over the leather seat looking like perfection itself- and kick started the engine. He fastened a white helmet on his head, a white helmet which Blaine noticed had a small rainbow flag painted on the back.

Blaine could only watch as the bike roared away, exciting a flurry of dust as it did, and leaving Blaine breathless, panting as though he'd just finished running laps around the school. He barely noticed as kids began to filter around him, walking toward the school as the bell for homeroom came. All thoughts of sneaking into the music room to test out the piano had completely escaped his mind, replaced entirely with thoughts of the pale, blue-eyed teenage delinquent.


	3. Battlegrounds

**A/N: Ha a 3rd chapter! I am invincible! Seriously though, you all should be grateful because my classes got cancelled this morning so I busted my ass finishing a piece for one of my writing classes this afternoon so that I could crank this chapter out for all of you lovely folks. I know I could probably make you all wait for updates but I don't like waiting so why should you have to? Anyway, sorry if this is a load of crap but between this and all the writing courses I'm in for school right now- my creative juices are completely exhausted. But happy news, I get to go home on spring break this Friday, so there should be a good week where the majority of my creative energies will be poured out just for you and this story! If I'm not too busy being lazy and hanging out with my bestie and girlfriend, that is. Anyhow, I hope this is semi-decent. **

***Warning: I guess I should note there is some violence in this chapter. It's not really graphic, but it is there. I know people like to be warned about that sort of thing so. There ya go.**

**THANKS FOR BEING LOVELY AND READING. :]**

**And a very VERY special thanks goes out to my first two reviewers. You are both darlings and I appreciate it so much! I hope I do you justice!**

* * *

_Lately this world seems kind of strange_  
_Has my perception changed? Am I losing the war? __Enemies that only you could see- or is this sympathy?_  
_Tell me how hard would you fight, if everything was slipping away,_  
_Before you just laid down and died?_  
_Night falls, still darkness never comes_  
_Silence forever gone, you just keep dropping bombs_  
_On my inner peace, you could not be more pleased._  
_Where is your sympathy?_  
-Battlegrounds by Goodnight Argent

The entire rest of the day, Blaine felt off. He kept looking over his shoulder, expecting Kurt to appear with his insulting comments and his mesmerizing eyes. But Kurt had driven away this morning, blown off school entirely, which Blaine couldn't help but admit was pretty cool. Not even Puck would just ditch class like that- show up to get stoned and then drive away. Blaine couldn't tell if he was glad that the little punk had left him alone for the day or, strangely, disappointed. He decided if he was disappointed, it was only because he didn't get to kick the little fucker's ass. Honestly, the whole encounter had been so goddamn unsettling. He had nearly failed a pop quiz because of it. It was only the third week of school and this stupid kid was throwing him off his game. Blaine was pissed off. And restless. He still couldn't stop glancing over his shoulders.

Quinn could sense something was wrong as she leaned in to kiss him when she sat down next to him at lunch. He didn't mean to, but he subconsciously pulled away from her, ever so slightly.

She exploded.

"What the fuck Blaine?"

"I'm sorry Babe, I think I just have onion breath," he lied quickly. Quinn narrowed her eyes at him. He could tell she didn't believe him entirely but she didn't press it, simply huffily shoved a tin of Altoids at him. He _was_ fairly obsessive about his hygiene.

"Thanks," he said briefly before popping one of the mints in his mouth.

"Honestly, Blaine, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were cheating on me," Quinn said as she pulled a single apple and a bottle of water out of her bag. She turned to look at him then, every word that left her mouth punctuated and cold. "But I know better than to think I have to worry about something like that. Don't I?"

Blaine shivered a little internally before nodding. Quinn was just as aware as he was of how unhappy their parents would be if they split up. Of course their moms would never just come right out and say it, but it had been made fairly obvious that the two were expected to be dating, and well, what concrete reason did they have to say no? Better to appease the parents together.

Blaine nodded in response to Quinn's question before forcing out, "Of course, Babe."

Quinn nodded in response, like a master to its dog. _ Good boy. _Blaine felt like slapping her.

"Alright well, since it seems like you're just going to be a little weirdo at lunch, I think I'll just skip out." She nodded her head to the other football players and cheerleaders that were sitting at their table and then flounced off, leaving her food behind untouched. Blaine didn't ask where she was going, mainly because he didn't really care, and also because he was almost certain it was to go get high in some back stairwell or to puke up whatever undigested food she had sitting around in her stomach, if any. He was glad she was gone though, because as she had left, Santana had walked in, a similarly sparse lunch in hand, and Blaine had some questions for her.

"Santana," he hissed as she approached their table. She walked over to the empty seat next to him with a wary look on her face.

"What do you want, Puppy Dog Eyes?"

"I need to ask you about this morning."

"Look, Blaine, if this is some sort of pathetic attempt to stage an intervention for me or something, I'll have you know right here and now that what I do in my personal life is _none_ of your business. Actually, nothing that I do ever is any of your business, unless you're sticking your tongue down my throat and your dick in my vagina. In which case, we can talk. Or not talk."

Blaine just shook off Santana's come on, because she did it to all the guys. "Look, this isn't about hooking up with you, shockingly enough," he said. "And you can smoke all your brain cells dead for all I care. This is about that punk ass kid that was out under the bleachers this morning."

Santana furrowed her brow. "You mean Hummel? You heard what Puck said. He's Flabby Gut over there's new stepbrother," she said, nodding toward where Finn Hudson sat at the other end of the table, shoveling a cheeseburger and fries into his mouth at the same time, one food item in either hand. "Hummel's a nice enough kid. Gay as a three dollar bill of course. But badass, so he pulls it off I guess. Fun to party with. Why do you want to know?"

"Because he's a jerkoff and I'm gonna kick his punk ass the next time he swaggers it on in here."

Santana didn't even try to hide her laughter. "You trying to kick Hummel's ass. That is something that I might even stay after school in this disgusting hell trench to watch. Listen Blaine, you try and kick Hummel's ass, and that kid will kill you. I'm serious here. He will _kill you_. He might not look that strong, but I've seen him get mad before and trust me, no one at this school's got enough balls to take him on."

"So you hung out with him all summer then?"

"Not all summer. Just at a few parties. Like I said, he's a fun guy. Until he's not anymore." She gave Blaine a warning look and he knew that if Santana felt threatened by someone, the person was probably pretty legitimate.

"I don't get it." He frowned. "He looks harmless."

Santana chuckled again. "Why don't you say that to his face?" She asked and Blaine turned around to see none other than Kurt himself standing behind him. God he looked tall. And…powerful. Blaine couldn't come up with another word to describe Kurt's appearance that didn't sound- well, _gay. _Even powerful was a stretch.

"Yeah. What were you saying Curly-Q?"

That did it. Blaine was out of his seat in a heartbeat, knocking over the opened container of apple juice on his lunch tray, causing the amber liquid to spill across the table and the floor. He didn't notice. He was too busy connecting his fist with Kurt Hummel's well-defined jawline.

Kurt stumbled back at the punch, the surprise that flitted momentarily through his piercing eyes giving Blaine a false sense of satisfaction until Kurt reeled back and got him back, right in the eye.

Blaine was down. His head was exploding with pain radiating from his eye, which he was _sure_ was bleeding, if not blinded. But he wasn't letting the little twerp get away with this shit. He staggered up off the floor, ignoring the look of surprised delight that had spread across Santana's features and the cacophonous yelling of the jocks as they got to their feet and rallied. Since he couldn't see and already had the disadvantage of being shorter than the other boy, Blaine hunched his shoulders up to protect his neck and ran at Kurt full force, barreling into him right in his gut and knocking him windless. Kurt was on the floor, breathing heavily, as Blaine toppled onto him, panting also but proud that he taken this supposedly "unbeatable" guy down. He squinted at Kurt through one eye and saw something reflected in the blue eyes that stirred his stomach. Kurt was looking at him, really looking at him, and God, it was such a gratifying feeling. His eyes really were beautiful, even awash in pain and anger right now as they were. They were captivating, actually. Blaine couldn't look away. He couldn't even breathe. He saw something appear in Kurt's eyes, an openness that he hadn't seen before, an almost frightened vulnerability, just a trace of it and he-

Ugh. Blaine was shoved off of Kurt's chest with a violent knee thrust to his groin, leaving the upper half of his body momentarily suspended above Kurt until he collapsed backwards, writing in pain on the cafeteria floor.

Finn had made his away over by now, having disentangled himself from his leech-like girlfriend and was now kneeling over Kurt protectively.

"What the hell Anderson? Why the fuck are you beating my brother up?"

"Step-brother," Kurt snapped, sitting up and rubbing his arm furiously across his mouth, the corner of which was bleeding slightly. "And he wasn't beating me up. _I _was beating him up. Obviously."

And it was obvious, to anyone onlooking, who had been the winner of this fight. Blaine lay, his back still to the ground, his legs curled up to his chest defensively, both eyes still clamped shut in pain, a hand over the left one, which looked to be bleeding slightly as well.

Kurt pushed himself up and hobbled over to Blaine's bent form, not willing to let anybody see that his gut was aching unbelievably from Blaine's full on body blast.

"And that, Curly-Q, is why you don't fuck with faggots like me." Kurt saw a fleck of spit from his mouth land below Blaine's right eye. The boy flinched but didn't move to wipe it off.

Kurt let out a satisfied sigh and turned to leave when his arm gripped by five hot, iron fingers.

The mousy substitute teacher on lunch duty, frightened out of her wits, had radioed the football coach when the fight began and now, moments later as it ended, Coach Beiste had arrived.

"Where you think you're going Kid?"

"Away," Kurt said firmly, but the cockiness had deflated from his voice somewhat.

"The hell you are. Anderson!" She barked.

Puck and a few others who had begun to surround Blaine helped him slowly and he limped over to the coach. Surprisingly, rather than anger etched over his face, he just looked worried.

"Please Coach," he groaned, limping as she yanked the boys, one by each fist, from the cafeteria.

"No more out of you Anderson. You got yourself into this mess. I don't wanna hear no excuses."

"But I can't…afford…another detention," Blaine grunted between labored breaths.

"Shoulda thought of that before. Unfortunately it's out of my hands now. You'll be lucky if a detention is all you get."

"But Coach…the game Friday…"

"Yeah Anderson." Coach Beiste looked at the pathetic boy before her with pure disappointment in her eyes. "My thoughts exactly. Now go on."

They were roughly pushed into Principal Figgins' office.

x-x-x-x-x-x

"Mr. Anderson, Mr. Hummel, take a seat," Figgins ordered in his slightly bored-sounding Indian accent. Each boy complied, but not without some fuss. Kurt sat down huffily, the strap of his book bag wound tightly in one hand. Blaine on the other hand, was slumped dejectedly in the wooden chair next to him, an ice pack that Beiste had brought from the nurse's office held to his eye halfheartedly.

"Now I hear that there has been a bit of a scuffle going on."

"Scuffle!" Beiste interjected from the corner of the office where she stood, hulking over the boys. "When I found these two, they were both bloody and on the ground in the middle of the cafeteria. I think what we have between these two is a little bit more than a scuffle."

"Well since you seem to have been in on the action, what, Coach Beiste, do you suggest we do about this?" Figgins asked with a trace of annoyance in his voice.

Beiste shrugged. "It's clear these two have a problem with each other. My suggestion would be that they spend some quality extracurricular time together and learn to solve their differences."

Blaine shifted in his seat to argue at the same time as Kurt protested, "I object!" his voice somewhat higher than normal.

"You object?" Figgins asked, his brown eyes sparking slightly.

"Yes. I have...activities to tend to outside of school enough as it is. I don't have time to waste with ignorant bigoted jocks. Nor should I have to. This boy is a bully," he declared, indicating Blaine with a tilt of his head. Blaine noticed that Kurt's hair, perfectly gelled into an elegant swoop this morning was now coming slightly un-coiffed, a few strands slipping into his eyes. How did he manage to even make _that_ look so good? It just made Blaine angrier.

"Coach! I have to be at practice, you _know_ that!"

"Yeah I'm fully aware of where you have to be Anderson. And once again I wish you'd thought of that before you started wrestling with this punk in the middle of the cafeteria." Kurt wrinkled his nose as he was once again referred to as a "punk". "But this isn't going to interfere with practice. Trust me," Beiste continued. "I'm giving you another chance to fix your mistakes and man up. You don't wanna screw up your whole senior year and your future before it's hardly begun. So you learn to get along with Kurt, and you'll remain captain of the team. But another incident like this, and I'm going to have to seriously reconsider my choice for football captain this year."

Blaine slumped into his seat further, the distress of the situation evident in his pained features.

"Excellent idea, Coach," Figgins said. "Now," he made a pyramid with his fingers and rested his chin on it lightly. "What shall the extracurricular activity be?"

"I still can't believe you expect me to spend time outside of school with a BIGOT!" Kurt yelled, jumping to his feet. Figgins and even Beiste looked up at him, startled. He looked awfully tall and imposing, there in Figgins' small office, his muscled shoulders poking out of his leather vest heaving as he choked out furious breaths, the corner of his smooth lips still split and crusted with blood.

"Mr. Hummel, please sit down," Figgins said, but there was little authority in his voice.

Kurt complied but the anger was still visible in the set of his shoulders and his smoldering eyes. "You know- both of you _know_- about the shit that I've had to deal with at my other high schools. I came here to get away from all that. You've spoken to my father; you promised me McKinley would be different. And now you're making me hang out alone with an asshole who hates me because I'm gay!"

Blaine looked at Kurt, unable to keep the shock out of his eyes at what he had just heard. What had Kurt dealt with in the past? Where had he come from and what had happened to him? And, Blaine had to admit, Kurt's ending sentence stung a little bit. He didn't hate Kurt, and if he did have a problem with him, it wasn't because he was gay. Something about the kid just got under Blaine's skin.

"On the contrary Mr. Hummel, Mr. Anderson is not a bigot," Figgins spoke up and Blaine was grateful someone was coming to his defense.

"It's true," Beiste stepped in. "I've known this kid for almost two years now Kurt. He's one of the nicest guys we got on the team. I always ask him to keep an eye on the freshmen and the underdogs, make sure they don't get hassled too much, teach 'em to take care of themselves. I trust Blaine. I've rarely seen him lash out at anyone and I've _never _seen him get into a fight like today."

"Which is why," Blaine interrupted, "I shouldn't be penalized for this. It's obviously the new kid's fault. He provoked me. You know I never behave like this."

"All the more reason for you to work it out with Kurt here. You two could help each other. You probably have more in common than you know," Beiste encouraged, ever the optimist. Kurt sneered at the suggestion.

"I sincerely hope not."

"Now that will be enough Mr. Hummel." Figgins jumped in. "Starting today I want the two of you to think of some sort of community service project you can complete together. It should be something that takes the entire first term. I want to see an outline for it on my desk on Monday and you will have weekly meetings to get it done. And no splitting up the work between the two of you either. This has to be done together, and it has to be done in order to benefit others."

"But we don't even DO the same things. Kurt is a lowlife. He doesn't _care _about anything," Blaine complained, pushing down the strange thrill that went through his stomach at the thought of spending more time with Kurt.

"I'm sure Mr. Anderson that once you spend some more time with him, you will find out that is not true," Principal Figgins declared with a satisfied smiling, feeling as though he had just very wisely and considerately maneuvered a tricky situation and settled on a perfect solution, despite the fact that it had really mostly been Beiste's doing.

Both boys made noises of protest but Figgins help up a hand. "That will be all for today, thank you. I expect you to hand in that outline on Monday, _together. _And if you boys fail to do this, I'm sure I don't need to detail what the consequences will be. Coach Beiste, please show them out."

The coach had one hand on each boy's back as she guided them firmly from the office. Once outside, Kurt wriggled his shoulders, effectively shoving her off.

"I have to get to class," he muttered, beginning to stalk off down the hallway, looking every inch the rebel he was.

"Wait," Blaine called, feeling foolish and embarrassed but knowing he had no other choice. "We're gonna have to meet up about this. I need your number."

"Oh is that so? The football captain wants a faggot's number? Better not let word get around, people might start to talk." Kurt said the words with a smile on his face, but there was real bitterness laced through his voice.

"Come on Kurt. Give it up."

Kurt laughed callously. "I'm not _that_ easy Curly-Q. You want my number so bad, you figure out how to get it." And he was walking away again.

Blaine felt his stomach shifting around inside him. This kid was messing with him, messing with him _bad_, and he hadn't even known him for a whole day. How was he going to survive the rest of the year?


	4. Keep On Dreaming

**A/N I just want each and every one of you who has been reading so far that I am so INCREDIBLY grateful for your reading and especially reviewing. You guys are the reason I'm writing this. And literally, I mean, every chance I get, I'm on my laptop frantically typing out another chapter. My fifteen minute break at work I even came on and got a few sentences in. So thanks for being so super inspirational and wonderful and making me _want_ to write. You guys da best. Also, sorry this chapter's a little on the shorter side but I'm not sure when in the craziness of the next couple of days I'm going to be able to post, so I wanted to put _something_ out there. Especially since all us Klainers NEED something after what's been going on [or not going on] in these past few episodes of Glee. Hope this can suffice for now!**

* * *

_Cause are you such a dreamer?  
Put yourself in my shoes  
Careful what you wish for, Love  
What's the matter with our ways  
I'm missing something not to blame  
But don't you worry, this will pass  
It's only cause my mind's been spinning  
No control, I've lost my head  
All of it is just beginning  
Not enough, never enough  
I only wanna keep on dreaming  
_-Dreamer by Uh Huh Her

Kurt was storming down the hallway by the end of the school day, furious and not caring who he had to shove out of his way as he went. This morning had been a perfectly good fall morning- his _favorite_ kind of fall morning- and he couldn't believe what it had all crumbled into. All because yet another stupid jock insisted on making his life one of constant misery. He scoffed and his shook his head. And they had sworn this school would be different…

But there was something Kurt had to admit, even though it frustrated him to do it. Blaine _wasn't_ making his life turning his life into one of constant misery. It was true he had tossed a homophobic slur or two Kurt's way, but they weren't even that bad, and Kurt himself had to acquiesce that he was the one who had provoked Blaine into doing that. Up until then he had seemed like a nice guy, he had even asked about Kurt's stepmom, kindly. He'd been the first person to really do that. And Kurt couldn't help but acknowledge that looking into his eyes for that brief moment during their fight had been…well, it had been nice. The kid had nice eyes. So what?

But Kurt knew what the problem with that was and he was pissed at himself. He found the jock attractive. He had realized it the second he entered their little circle under the bleachers, which is why he had done his best to ignore him as much as possible. Better to stay away. But it wasn't easy. Blaine had seemed so nice, talking to Puck the way he did, not really saying an unkind word to anyone. Kurt had been sad when he walked away. And so he chased after him. Now that had been truly foolish. Kurt wouldn't let it happen again. He remembered all too well what had happened last time he had let his dick control his actions like this.

Except now he was truly in a bind. Baiting Blaine at lunch like that had been stupid, had caused that whole ridiculous fight and now all Kurt could think about was the way Blaine had felt, breathing heavily on top of him, staring into his eyes with those green-amber ones, framed heavily by dark, thick lashes which Kurt couldn't help but want to feel brushing against his skin.

_For Christ's sake Hummel, stop writing fucking sonnets about the kid and snap your head back on properly_, Kurt inwardly chastised himself. This supposed "sexual tension" or whatever was something Kurt could easily deal with, as he was certain it was unreciprocated by Blaine. But there was the issue of being forced now to spend extra time together outside of school. _Alone time. _Kurt had no idea what this ridiculous community service project would end up being but he did know for sure that he did not want work on it with Blaine Anderson. One day of interacting with him had been more than enough to last him a lifetime. Blaine was danger walking, all wrapped up as he was in form-fitting dark jeans and a navy-striped V-neck that accentuated his pectoral muscles as well as his biceps, not to mention that _hair. _Hair that curly and tantalizing should be outlawed.

_Goddamnit Kurt! _He thought as he caught himself drifting off on thoughts of the boy once again. He punched himself lightly in the arm. He couldn't help wondering though if Blaine would actually search around and find his number, if he should maybe be expecting a call this afternoon from that smooth, polite voice. Kurt loved the control that existed in Blaine's voice at almost all times. It was such a turn on, to imagine what he would sound like when he got flustered, aroused maybe. When he had been yelling earlier this afternoon in Figgins' office, Kurt had felt shivers go down his spine at the sheer recklessness in the calm boy's voice. He hoped Blaine might call. He'd like to hear that voice on the phone, talking to _him_.

"Snap out of it Ladyface." Santana had come up behind him while he was ensconced in his thoughts, jolting him out of his inappropriate reverie once more.

"Daydreaming about Anderson are we?"

It was the end of the school day and Kurt had absent-mindedly made his way to the music room, and was sitting at the piano, his elbows resting on his knees, chin in hands.

He snorted at Santana's comment. "Yeah, I've really got a thing for the whole curly-haired "hobbit" look, ya know?

Santana cackled, "You can't lie to me Hummel. I've known Anderson for a little while now and while he might not be Brad Pitt, you can't deny he's good-looking." She licked her lips appreciatively at the thought. "Plus," she leaned down to whisper right behind Kurt's ear, "I can spot the slightest spark of chemistry from a mile away and the chemistry going on between the two of you was much closer than that- and it was _sizzling_." She hissed the last word, sending a slight shiver down Kurt's neck and through his spine. He jerked his shoulders as if he could physically shake off the effect her words had had on him.

"Because I'd really call me having to defend myself against the lunchroom attack of some homophobic jock 'chemistry'," Kurt retorted sarcastically, hoping his tone was more convincing than the hair standing up on the back of his neck.

"Whatever you have to tell yourself Hummel," Santana said flippantly, twirling around to walk away.

But then-

"But you know you want it. And by the looks of things, so does he," she whispered and swept out of the music room.

"Ugh," Kurt groaned, laying back across the piano bench in frustration. He closed his eyes and wished this whole situation would end. Nothing pissed him off more than feeling like he didn't have control of things.

He heard the door to the music room creak open again and yelled, "Piss off Santana!" without opening his eyes. But Santana's voice didn't come in response.

"It's Blaine."

And it was. Perfect Blaine. Blaine, whose voice somehow managed to fill the entire room with a mere couple of words. Blaine, whose presence was physically warming, like tea on a stormy day, or sunshine after a long, hard winter. Blaine-

Kurt jolted and nearly fell off the bench as a result.

"Jesus fuck Anderson. Way to fucking scare a person shitless. I could've broken my neck just now. God."

Blaine looked sheepish, standing a couple yards away from Kurt, tugging absentmindedly on the sleeves of his t-shirt. "Sorry."

"Yeah well next time, maybe think a second before you decide to interrupt somebody's private time. I don't know if anybody ever told you, but it's rude."

"Uhm yeah. I didn't have much…in the way of manners teaching or anything. My mom…"

"Hold up Curly-Q." Kurt sat up on the bench, facing Blaine, his elbows nonchalantly propped on the wooden key lid behind him. "Let me stop you before you waste more of your precious breath and both yours and my time by making something clear to you right now, which is that _I don't care_ about your little family problems. Not your mommy issues or your daddy issues- or really, any of _your_ issues. Got it?"

Blaine nodded without saying anything and for a moment, Kurt almost felt bad for the speech he had just delivered. But only for a moment. Blaine spoke then,

"Dude we really need to talk though. About this community service thing."

"Yeah." Kurt frowned. "I thought I told you to get my number. How did you even know I was in here anyway?"

Blaine shrugged. "I didn't."

"So what is this like your secret hang-out or something?"

"No. I just…you know what, never mind. I found you regardless. Let's just get this over with."

"Fine." Kurt closed his eyes again, inhaling deeply. He could smell Blaine's cologne all the way from where he was standing. Just a hint of it. God. So masculine. It was intoxicating.

When he opened his eyes, Blaine was staring at him in a strange manner, a slightly confused expression painting his features.

"You really need to get a grip on that staring habit you have."

"Kurt," Blaine looked uncomfortable. Kurt noted that this was the first time he recalled ever having heard his name come from Blaine's lips. It was a delicious sound.

"I wanted to- just before we get started on this- apologize for jumping on you earlier. I really hope you don't think I'm homophobic. Honestly, it had nothing to do with that. I've just been stressed out lately and things were getting to me. But I don't really care that you- you're-"

"Gay," Kurt finished for him. "Oh I know you don't care." Kurt had a glint in his eyes which made Blaine shift even more. Kurt was just toying with him but the reactions he was getting were much more interesting than he expected.

"Hey, Man, I'm not saying _I'm_ gay. I've got a girlfriend. We talked about this. I just want you to know you don't have to- I mean I'm not- I'm not like those other bigots. I'm not ignorant."

"Oh really? You think that just because you've maybe talked to a nice gay guy in line at the grocery store once, or because you occasionally catch an episode of _Ellen_ on TV, that means you're not _ignorant?_ Let me tell you something _Blaine_." He had stood up now and walked over to where the shorter boy was standing so that he could look him in the eye. "Until you've been shoved into lockers, thrown into dumpsters, and literally had the will to live beaten out of you, you're ignorant. You have _no idea_ what I go through every day. So don't pretend that you have any fucking clue." He was close to tears now and furious with himself.

Blaine was simply staring back at him with an expression in his gorgeous hazel eyes that Kurt couldn't- and didn't really want to- read. It was probably pity. That made Kurt even more furious. The last thing he wanted was this boy's pity.

He moved to storm out when Blaine caught him by the arm.

"Kurt, I'm sorry."

"Let me go."

"No you're going to listen to me," Blaine said with an authority Kurt had never heard before. He was taken aback, and a little bit turned on. He froze, meeting Blaine's gaze warily, feeling the burning of his fingers around his forearm so strongly it was as though that were the only part of his body that still existed.

"Look, you're right, I can't pretend to know what you go through every day. And I'm sorry I was so flippant about it earlier. But I do know what it's like…to have people look down on you, judge you, maybe even hate you. But you can't let that shit make you bitter Kurt. If you let it, it will get into your insides and infect you like a cancer and by the time you realize what it's done to you, it'll be too late."

Kurt was staring at Blaine, only half hearing the words he was saying. He felt his arm, felt the pure strength of it, saw the dark hairs that coated the olive-colored skin and- a watch. A very _nice_ watch.

"That's an Emporio Armani," he said before he realized what he was doing.

"What?"

"Your watch." Kurt, for some reason, was breathless. "It's an Emporio Armani. Oh God, I've never seen one in person before. Just look at the skeleton detailing…it's beautiful."

Blaine blushed and Kurt could've cried, it was so adorable. "Uh thanks," he said embarrassedly. "It was a Christmas present from my girlfriend."

"Your girlfriend must be rich."

"Yeah. She comes from what my mom calls 'good money'," Blaine admitted with more than a trace of bitterness in his voice.

"Is that why you're dating her?"

Blaine stared at him in shock. "No- well- I mean- no…not…no."

Kurt laughed, the intensity of the past two minutes dissipating immediately. "Well you certainly sound sure of yourself. Look it Curly-Q, would it be easier for you if I just handed you my number myself since you seem incapable of getting it on your own and this conversation is going nowhere productive fast?"

Blaine just nodded, speechless.

Kurt laughed again, grabbing hold of the other boy's arm again and pulling out a sharpie. He wrote his phone number on the inside of Blaine's forearm in neat, elegant numbers, marveling at the smoothness of the skin as he did so. So soft. Kurt couldn't help but wonder what that arm would feel like as it grazed his cheek while those fingers ran through his hair, how it would feel wrapped around his waist, pulling Kurt's body flush against Blaine's…

"There," He said, dropping Blaine's arm suddenly, as though it had stung him. "I wrote it in permanent marker so everyone will see you've been marked by a faggot." He went back to the piano and grabbed his book bag, slinging it casually over his shoulder and sent Blaine a playful wink. "I hope your girlfriend's not the jealous type."

It seemed once again he had left Blaine with nothing to say when, just as Kurt had reached the door of the music room, Blaine said his name again. Kurt stopped for a moment with his back still turned to Blaine, letting the sound of his name coming from Blaine's mouth wash over him for a moment before turning around expectantly.

"You tricked me."

"Excuse me?"

"Earlier. In the cafeteria. When I had you pinned, you had this look in your eyes that caught me off guard and all along it was just a trick to distract me so you could get the upper hand."

Kurt shrugged, a half-smile forming at the corner of his mouth. "Sorry Curly-Q. I can't help it if people have a tendency to get lost in my eyes." He turned again and left, nearly skipping once the door closed behind him, because Blaine Anderson had just basically admitted that he had gotten distracted by Kurt's eyes earlier.

Maybe the guy wasn't so straight after all. Kurt could dream anyway. Dreams had been getting him by for years now. What was one more?

As long as he didn't let the fantasy get out of hand.


	5. Flames

**A/N Woot! A new chapter! Sorry I didn't have this up sooner; I feel like I really owe you guys one since the action has been slow-coming and the chapters have been short. Anyway, hopefully this chapter will give you all a little bit of gratification. I know it did me while writing it. :) Also know I wanted to update yesterday but nine hour car rides just don't really make that easy. I'm not sure if I'll be able to write at all tomorrow either, but I want to at least post by Monday. Like I said, this is my spring break, so while I intend to enjoy myself, I also intend to update like the dedicated little writer I am. Please enjoy and review if you like! It'd make my day. And thank you all so much for reading as always! xoxox**

**FYI Just so nobody gets disappointed, there's no smut yet, but it's coming. I promise, it's coming. ;)**

* * *

_Let me give you something that is real_  
_ Close the door, l__eave your fears behind_  
_ Let me give you what you're giving me_  
_ You are the only thing __that makes me want to live at all_  
_ When I am with you, __there's no reason to pretend  
_-Flames by Vast

The air in Blaine's house was so tense when he walked in that he almost turned right around and headed back out again. Of course, if he didn't deal with his mother now, it only meant he would have to deal with her later instead. He turned around to look out the window. It was still a perfect afternoon outside, the wind just gently tugging at the trees, the sun still lingering in the slowly cooling sky. He could go skateboard for a while, clear his head some. His encounters with Kurt throughout the day had left his head feeling fuzzy and his whole body confused. He couldn't tell whether he was dreading spending time with the boy while working on their community service project together or if he was excited about it. And that bothered him.

Before he had a chance to make a decision about whether to face his mom or flee the scene, his mother made the choice for him.

"Blaine," his name resounded from the kitchen in a piercing tone that bounced off of all the walls and seemed to rattle the photographs on the walls. Photographs of their "perfect" little family. Most days Blaine wanted to take the photographs and chuck them at the walls.

He sighed. "Yes Mother Dearest." He knew his snarky comment wouldn't help him much but he couldn't stop himself.

"Don't give me that Blaine Devon Anderson. Get in here immediately."

He dropped his skateboard and backpack by the door, knowing fully he'd be scolded for that later too.

"What?" he asked with a sigh, annoyance evident in his voice. His mother was sitting at their kitchen table with her hands folded in front of her, lips pressed thinly together. She wore a pristine white pantsuit and a lavender blouse, all complimented by silver jewelry and perfectly straight blonde hair. Blaine wondered often why she went through so much effort to keep up the façade, that she was some sort of perfect, elegant housewife, when really they were poor and pathetic. But he supposed he knew the answer: she needed this, this was all that she had.

"Blaine," she said to him, blue eyes cold under her thickly-coated eyelashes. Blaine didn't fail to notice the nearly empty glass of red wine that sat next to her on the table, the top of the glass smudged with the slightest of pink lipstick stains.

"I just got a call from your principle."

Blaine's shoulders slumped at the words. He had been hoping against hope that his mother wouldn't have to find out about this.

"He told me you were in a _fight_ today. With that little gay boy."

Blaine's eyes flashed suddenly at the latter statement. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"You will not use that language in this house Young Man," His mother said angrily, before taking another long sip of her wine. She closed her eyes "I just want to say this once and then we won't talk about it anymore."

_That's a first_, Blaine thought, but didn't voice his thoughts, knowing they might very well earn him a back-handed slap to the cheek. And his mother, while small, had some force behind her hits. Not to mention her bulky rings could really sting.

"I understand why you would want to beat that kid up. I do Blaine. Especially if he was…if he was trying to make some sort of…pass at you. You're a very attractive boy Darling and I know you get a lot of offers. I always did too."

Blaine narrowed his eyes, trying to understand what his mother was saying.

"And trust me, I know what it's like. To get hit on by those _gay_ people. God, there was one girl back in high school who was so relentless," she laughed, the sound a hard one when it came from her humorless mouth.

"But anyway. The point is that, I know it makes you uncomfortable, as it should, and I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself. But, Honey, you've got to do it more subtly next time. Or just report him to a teacher for harassment. I know that's not 'as cool' and God knows I've taught you well enough that you're able to defend yourself against that sort of unwanted attention, but it's just not worth risking your future- _our futures_ for. Now I talked to Principle Higgins-"

"What the fuck Mom!" Blaine had clenched his hands into fists at his sides and was now breathing heavily through his teeth. He could feel the vein on his forehead begin to throb painfully. He couldn't remember being this angry with his mother in a long time, and that was truly saying something.

"Excuse me Blaine!" His mother gasped, a hand flying to her chest in horror at the language that had just been directed at her from her teenage son's mouth.

"Cut the shit Mom. Where do you think I learned that word from in the first place? Certainly wouldn't have been all the screaming matches with Dad, would it have been? Or should I have called them attacks, since that's what they mostly were anyway- you screaming and belittling my father for trying to do some goddamned good in this world." Blaine held up a hand when his mother tried to speak and was surprised, with no small amount of delight, when it actually silenced her.

"But after all of the _small, ignorant, disgusting _things I've seen you do over the course of my childhood, this is really the lowest of them all. I cannot believe you think that I would beat up another kid just because he's gay- that you would _encourage_ that behavior. It genuinely makes me ashamed to be related to you."

His mother sat speechless, the last swig in her glass of wine left completely forgotten. She sat there, breathing hard for several moments, staring hard into the glaring, dark eyes of her teenage son, before managing to speak again.

"How dare you talk to me that way. I am your mother!"

"Yeah I'm aware of that unfortunate fact."

"Oh my God," the woman said, more to herself than Blaine. "Oh my God. I can't believe this is happening. Blaine," she said, and he noticed the note of desperation that was suddenly present in her voice. She stood up and walked over to her son, reaching out a hand to grab his own.

"Blaine you're not- dear God please tell me that you're not- _gay_, are you?"

"God, Mom, no!" Blaine dropped his mother's hand in disgust. "I'm dating Quinn for Christ's sakes.

His mother took a few shaky breaths and sat down again.

"I know that, you just seemed so impassioned…for a moment I wasn't sure if maybe that Hummel boy hadn't infected you or something." She sipped the rest of her wine.

"Infected me?"

"Well yes." His mother looked up at him innocently, clearly having no idea what she might have said to make her son so upset.

"You're sick," he nearly spat at her.

"No Blaine! It's that gay boy that's sick! Him and his father and all the teachers at that school of yours who allow people like him to walk around openly. This is what I hate most about you having had to leave your private school Blaine. I _know_ the kids you have to interact with at your high school are beneath you and I'm sorry for that. Your father doesn't understand how important it is for you to be surrounded by the right kind of influences. But I _do_," she insisted, getting up to grab the bottle of wine off the counter and refill her glass.

Blaine was so infuriated that he was genuinely scared of what he might do if he didn't get out of there immediately.

"I'm leaving," he muttered heavily, turning on his heel and reaching the door he had just entered through in mere seconds.

"Blaine!" His mother called from the kitchen. "Blaine come back here! I wasn't finished discussing this with you!" But Blaine had already opened the door, skateboard in hand, and was down the street. He had made it a couple blocks before he felt calm enough to tug his cell phone out of his pocket. His breathing had mostly returned to normal.

He stopped to sit on the curb, turning his forearm so that he could read the numbers written on the inside left, punching them shakily into his phone. The phone rang three times before the voice on the other end picked up. Blaine felt physical relief fill his body, the tension from his shoulders dissolving almost instantly at the sound.

"Hello?" Kurt said. His voice was so light and relaxed, so different from the tension filled one that had been laced with bitterness and pain back at school. The indifference and toughness was gone too, revealing, simply, Kurt. Kurt how he must have been before, before all the heartache of this world had started to seep into his veins. Not that Blaine blamed him- if the way his mother had just spoke to him was the way Kurt got spoken to on a regular basis- he took a deep breath. He couldn't even _imagine_…

"Hello? If this another one of those creepy pervert calls where all I'm going to hear on the other end is heavy-breathing, I'm hanging up now and I'll block this number just like I did the last one." The edge was back.

"No wait Kurt, it's me!" Blaine was embarrassed by how desperate he sounded but he didn't have time to dwell on that.

"Curly-Q," Kurt replied, his tone softening with a trace of a smile coming through. Blaine's stomach curled a little bit, thinking about how it had been _him_ who had caused that softening, that small smile, and then shook his head in disbelief at the path his own thoughts were taking. It was just nice to know that he was someone Kurt might be starting to feel safe with, after all the guards he usually had up with everyone else.

"It certainly didn't take long for you to call. I thought it'd be days at least before you worked up the courage," Kurt said with a good-natured sounding smirk in his voice.

"Yeah well, I needed to get out of my house. You were the first person that came to mind to call."

"I was, was I?" Kurt sounded vaguely interested in that comment, but Blaine didn't question it.

"Well your number was on my arm after all. Listen, do you think we could meet up right now or something?"

"Meet up? To talk about the community service project?"

"Sure. Yes," Blaine said, not wanting to admit that he mostly just wanted to meet up in order to listen to Kurt's voice some more, always so certain, so calming, to maybe look into his eyes once again and see if they held what he had thought they did earlier.

"Mmkay," Kurt hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I expect being seen around in public with me might destroy your reputation once and for all and we certainly can't have that. No one's at my house right now, so I'd suggest coming here, unless it's too freaky for you."

"No, that's perfect."

"Not worried you're going to get raped?" Kurt replied edgily but Blaine knew there was more than a little sincerity to his question. It made him sad, to think about what had put Kurt so on edge like this, made him so hard and distrusting, when Blaine could tell it was in his nature to be soft and genuine.

"Shut up Hummel. Just give me the address."

x-x-x-x-x-x

When Blaine showed up at Kurt's house, he had to admit, it wasn't really what he was expecting. Well, he wasn't sure quite _what_ he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been this. It was cozy, sweet, the house painted yellow and surrounded by rose bushes. Blaine somewhat warily followed the stone path that was arched half-way through by an intricately carved trellis. What was he doing here? Kurt was only going to belittle him; he would probably do something to embarrass himself. Like say aloud one of the weird thoughts he'd been having ever since he'd seen Kurt for the first time. He'd have to make an extra effort to think before he spoke.

He finally reached the door, knocking tentatively. No one answered. Was this some sort of prank? He'd thought he and Kurt had reached a kind of truce earlier. He knocked again louder. Nothing. But Kurt's Harley was parked clearly outside. And when Blaine pressed his ear up to the door, he could hear something faintly, music, drifting through the house and out of the front door. Like a man possessed, Blaine did something he would never have dreamed he would do; he pushed open the door and walked in without waiting for an invitation.

The inside of the house wasn't much different from the outside in that it too, was tasteful, yet cozy and welcoming. Badass Kurt Hummel who drove a motorcycle and wore leather and chains lived _here_? Blaine was still having trouble wrapping his head around it. He found it charming though. Someone cared about Kurt. His home looked like a real home, certainly much more than anywhere Blaine had ever lived. It was nice.

He was so lost in this reverie that it took Blaine a few moments to notice that the sound of the music was louder now. It was coming from the basement. The sounds of a piano playing and drifting, floating on top of it: a boy singing. _Kurt _singing. It sounded almost ethereal. His voice was so perfect, so pure, unlike any voice Blaine had ever heard before. It didn't even seem possible, for anyone to have a voice that angelic.

Blaine followed the sounds, stopping in front of a partially-open door that led to a downstairs room where the music was clearly coming from. Going down would be a huge invasion of privacy, might even cause Kurt to stop making the beautiful music, but then, Blaine couldn't help himself. He was drawn to it, like sailors drawn to the call of the sirens. He moved as though in a trance. When he finally made it down the stairs, he found himself in a decent-sized bedroom, presumably Kurt's, with a small upright piano tucked in the corner. And he inhaled in amazement. Because there was Kurt, bent over the instrument lovingly, his hands flowing across the keys like they were water and he was swimming through the ocean of it all. His head was tilted back slightly and while Blaine couldn't see his face, he could tell his eyes were closed as he poured his heart into the words of the song:

_Death is a cold, blindfolded kiss; it is the finger pressed upon our lips_

_It puts an unwanted emphasis on how we should've lived_

_Life is a gorgeous, broken gift: six billion pieces waiting to be fixed_

_Love letters that were never signed, sent to where we live_

_The sweetest thing I've ever heard is that I don't have to have all the answers_

_Just a little light to call my own_

_Though it pales in comparison to the over-arching shadows  
_

_A speck of light can reignite the sun and swallow darkness whole_

Blaine didn't realize until Kurt had finished the song that he had been holding his breath the whole time he had been standing there. He released his breath as quietly as he could...but not quietly enough.

"What the fuck Anderson?" Kurt had leapt off of the piano bench and was now standing next to his bed, arms crossed defensively across his chest, eyes watching Blaine coldly, almost…fearfully.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said immediately. "I knocked, but no one answered. I really don't know what came over me. I know it was wrong but no one was answering and I knew you were home and then I heard the music…"

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "How much did you hear?"

"Most of it," Blaine admitted. "But I was only really down here for the end."

"Get the fuck out."

"What? Kurt-"

"I said. Get. The. Fuck. Out."

"Please Kurt, don't send me away," Blaine was begging and he knew it, but he didn't care. "I'm sorry, I intruded. It's just…that was beautiful," Blaine felt his face flush as he heard his voice crack at the end, his last statement a near-whisper.

"What?" Kurt seemed genuinely shocked at the statement.

"It was beautiful Kurt. I had no idea that you could play like that, or _sing_ like that. What song was that?"

"It's called 'Emphasis' by Sleeping At Last," Kurt said quietly, his arms still crossed, stance still clearly on the defensive. "Why do you want to know?"

"Believe me when I say Kurt, I've never heard a voice that perfect in my entire life."

"If you're fucking with me…" Kurt began severely.

"I would never fuck with you. Not about something like this," Blaine said, hating himself once more for how hoarse his voice sounded.

"Well thanks, I guess," Kurt finally replied, awkwardly shrugging his shoulders.

"You're welcome," Blaine said reverently. "I just- I don't know why you keep that hidden."

Kurt laughed, that scornful, jaded laugh that Blaine had already come to recognize. "Not everyone is as full of praise about my singing voice as you are Blaine. I get enough shit about my speaking voice. When people hear me sing…let's just say, I give them a whole new outlet to bully me through. People _hate_ my voice, Blaine."

"People hate what they don't understand, Kurt. And more than that, they hate it when something is beautiful when they feel like it shouldn't be. It makes them feel stupid and inferior. Your voice is _moving_. It doesn't even sound like it's from earth. And that, scares the shit out of people. And so they take it out on you."

The smallest bit of a smile was visible in Kurt's demeanor now. His face had softened as Blaine had been talking and Blaine felt his heart squeeze inside his chest. How quickly Kurt had tensed up, how quickly he had gone on defense. The most awful part of it was that Blaine had been able to see traces of fear through the mask. Kurt had been afraid- truly _afraid_ of what Blaine would do when he heard him singing. It made Blaine's insides ache.

"Well now that you've invaded every corner of my personal life, let me ask you something Blaine Anderson."

"Sure." Blaine nodded.

"Why did you want to get out of your house so badly earlier? And why was I the person you called? I find it hard to believe that working on a community service project would be that enticing to you that I'd be the first person you rang up."

Blaine shrugged. "I didn't really have anyone else to call."

"Bullshit. You're the most popular guy in the school; you said so yourself."

It was Blaine's turn to laugh scornfully. He moved to sit on the edge of Kurt's bed, not even noticing the way Kurt's eyes widened at the intrusion. "As if being the most popular guy in school is any sort of guarantee that I have friends. I mean, sure, I have 'friends'. But people to talk to? People who understand me, care about me? Yeah, that's a good laugh."

"What about your girlfriend?"

"The girlfriend I'm not fucking?" Blaine looked up to see shock painting Kurt's features. "Yeah. You were right earlier. Quinn and I- we don't have sex. And I don't even honestly know _why_. Anyway, she's not exactly the person I go to with all my personal problems."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"You asked."

"That doesn't mean you had to answer."

"Would you rather I didn't?"

"No," Kurt said, moving to sit down beside Blaine, still keeping a good foot and a half of distance between them. "I just don't understand why you…_trust_ me."

Blaine shrugged. "I don't really understand it either. But for some reason I just do."

"You're a goddamned idiot Curly-Q," Kurt said laughingly. "But I can't say I'm unhappy about it."

"You don't trust me though," Blaine replied, not even bothering to phrase it as a question.

Kurt didn't say anything for a while. Then, "It's not _you_. I just have trouble really trusting anybody. It usually bites me in the ass. And not in the way that I like," he said with a wink, making reference to Blaine's harsh comment from earlier that day, and causing Blaine to blush scarlet.

"I didn't really mean that, earlier. I know I said I'm sorry but I hope you believe me."

"I believe you. And like I said, I've had much worse. I can tell you're not really homophobic. If you were, you wouldn't be here right now. Or maybe you're just trying to get some sort of dirt on me, get close to me, so you can hurt me later. But if that were the case, I'd have to warn you right now that no one fucks around with Kurt Hummel. Used to be, I'd just let people walk all over me. But I've grown up a lot since then and most people know better now than to try something with me." He looked Blaine up and down, his words semi-playful, but still defensive again. "I will fuck your life up."

"Dude. What in the hell happened to you to make you so hard around the edges?"

Kurt's face was expressionless but his eyes were cold when they met Blaine's and Blaine instantly knew he'd said the wrong thing. He wished he hadn't opened his mouth.

"You don't want to know," Kurt said, leaning in to whisper threateningly. "It would give you nightmares."

Blaine knew he was supposed to be intimidated-and he was- but his head was also swimming, because he had just felt Kurt's breath, hot on his face, smelled him, lemony and minty and clean, had seen those eyes close up once again, blue like ice, but then almost green, and so full of light, even when they were hard and closed off.

"Let's take the attention off of me," Kurt said when he realized Blaine wasn't going to say anything. "And put it back on you. That's where it belongs after all, isn't it?"

"Would you believe me if I said I hated attention?" Blaine asked, finally regaining his senses.

"Maybe. I'm not sure yet." Blaine noticed then that somehow, he and Kurt had closed the gap between them so that only a few inches remained now. God, Kurt's jeans were so tight. Blaine could easily make out the bulge of his crotch that he had noticed earlier, only now, so close to him, it seemed even more prominent. He had the inexplicable urge to reach out and grab it. He wished…

The doorbell rang and Blaine heard a sharp whistle overhead as someone stepped inside. Blaine took a second to wonder if Kurt had noticed him staring at his crotch before a voice grabbed his attention.

"Kurt!"

"Ah, fuck." Kurt muttered, a look of realization dawning on his face. "Hold on one second." He bounded up the stairs and Blaine couldn't stop himself from watching the way his ass moved as he walked. He also couldn't stop himself from catching what Kurt was saying to the stranger upstairs.

"I thought I told you to use the downstairs door."

"Yeah but your dad's car wasn't here, so I figured it'd be fine. The door was open a little crack."

"Jesus. This is what I get for telling you could come over to my house. Fine. I was hanging out with a friend…"

A friend? Kurt was calling him his friend now? Blaine couldn't help that his heart did a little dance for joy against his ribcage.

"Baby, we had plans. You told me to show up at 5 o'clock."

_Baby? _What was this- did Kurt have some kind of boyfriend?

"Yeah well my life doesn't fucking revolve around you okay? God, the things I have to put up with to get a good lay these days. Come on, I'll send him home."

Blaine heard two sets of footsteps descending the stairs to the basement, but he didn't stick around to be "sent home." Instead, he quickly slipped out of the door in the corner of the room, shutting it quietly behind him and jogging lightly around front before realizing with a groan that he had left his skateboard leaning against the stairs to Kurt's bedroom.

He noted with some disgust the fancy-looking red car that was now occupying the driveway and decided that there was no way he was going back in there. It looked like he would be walking home.


	6. Around My Head

**A/N: So I don't know if I'm entirely in love with this chapter, but there's some good tension building. I'm sorry I'm being a tease; I'm starting to get impatient myself. But it will be all the more exciting when something does happen! Right? I tried to address some of the things you guys had mentioned- such as how all of the events of Kurt and Blaine's relationship have taken place over the course of only one day so far. I hope the continuity is there and that nothing feels too forced or out of place. Also, I'm sorry the identity of "the visitor" is not revealed yet, but it will be! Blaine and Kurt have many many things to talk about and right now they're still not sure how they feel about each other. Don't worry. All will come in good time. Until then, I hope this chapter is sufficient to tide you over and as always, I love you dearly for reading and reviewing. You are all seriously fantastic. **

**P.S. Sorry if sometimes you read and there are little bugs or typos. I always post right after I finish a chapter and I really have to FORCE myself to reread for edits. Usually, I publish it before I reread it and then always end up going back and fixing a bunch of things. But I'm going to try to proofread before I publish this time. Cause I love you all so much and I'm trying to fight my lazy ways.**

* * *

_I don't think it's very polite  
__To walk around my head all night  
You've got me tangled like a bread-tie, twisted  
No, I don't think it's fair  
_-Around My Head by Cage the Elephant

When Blaine arrived at school the next morning, it was obvious from his disheveled appearance and his bloodshot hazel eyes that he hadn't slept well. In fact, Blaine didn't sleep at all, simply tossed and turned in his bed all night until he finally began to hear birds chirping faintly outside his window. He had thrown some clothes on and crept outside then, sitting on his back porch to watch the sunrise over the trees, hoping it might calm his brain some. But it was still frantic with thoughts and images and questions of his day yesterday.

Had it really been only a day?

It felt like months, maybe years. He felt like he had aged. He ran his hand over the stubble on his jaw. He hadn't even attempted to tame his thick curls with any kind of hair gel this morning. Of course, his skateboard was still at Kurt's house, so he had left for school early, walking the sidewalks slowly, methodically, lost deep in thought. He had considered begging off school for the day, but knew that in the end, it would only make him more restless. He had to go there, to see Kurt, to maybe try and deal with these ridiculous questions plaguing his mind. Today, he would get everything straightened out and life would return back to normal.

When he got to school the first person he saw was Quinn but for once, her presence pleased him.

"Hey Baby," he said to her, forming a tired smile.

She leaned in to give him a quick kiss, obviously presently surprised by his attentiveness, before leaning back and getting a good look at him.

"God, what happened to you Blaine?"

"Couldn't sleep. Up all night thinking about you I guess," He winked at her. Quinn blushed prettily and smacked his arm in a playful manner.

"Shut up," she said before leaning in again to give him another kiss, this one not chaste like the last, but lingering, and open-mouthed. Blaine resisted the urge he had to open his eyes or pull away, and instead tried to immerse himself in her presence, tried to enjoy himself. Why was it he always found himself thinking about other things when she was kissing him? Why could he never just get lost in her body the way he knew he was supposed to?

These were the thoughts dancing around his head as Quinn deepened the kiss, standing on her tiptoes to push him into the lockers and entwine her fingers in his hair.

"I kind of don't mind your hair like this once in a while," she whispered to him breathily.

Blaine only smiled in reply and let her continue to kiss him.

They were interrupted by the clearing of a throat loudly nearby. "Perhaps you two would like to spare us the sight of your nasty pre-love-making ritual and save the foreplay for the bedroom," a voice said coldly. _That voice. _Blaine groaned inwardly, as everything came flooding back to him. His head pounded and he felt slightly nauseous. He gently pushed Quinn off of him with a sigh.

"What do you want Hummel?"

Kurt was standing a few feet away from him, motorcycle helmet dangling from one hand, and Blaine's skateboard hanging from the other. "I thought you might want this back."

Blaine visibly blanched at the sight of his personal property in Kurt Hummel's hands. What would Quinn think? He noticed then that Kurt looked, if it was even possible, even more attractive than yesterday. His brown-almost-auburn hair was styled perfectly, which was a conundrum in itself, since he had to wear that motorcycle helmet as he rode to school every morning. Today he wore a tight, cobalt blue button up made out of some sort of shiny material that was rolled up at the elbows to reveal surprisingly masculine forearms. He had stopped buttoning it just above the halfway mark so that a large V of his smooth skin was once again tantalizingly revealed. His usual necklaces were in place and for the first time, Blaine noticed the diamond earrings that studded his earlobes. But the thing that drew most of Blaine's attention was the literally skin tight black leather pants that Kurt had somehow squeezed his sculpted legs and ass into. Blaine felt his mouth going dry.

Quinn was looking at him in confusion. "Why does that gay kid have your stuff?" Blaine flinched a little at her nonchalant label, wondering if anyone had told her about the fight in the lunchroom yesterday. She must've heard about it; almost all of their friends had witnessed it first hand. Fortunately, an hour in the nurse's room with an ice pack had more or less brought all the swelling down around his eye. It was still a little sore to the touch and the beginnings of a bruise were there, but the nurse had proclaimed him lucky, because Kurt had caught more face than eye, and all in all, it didn't really look that bad. His mother had been too distraught and buzzed on wine yesterday to even notice it. Kurt, he noticed regretfully, had a scab forming on the corner of his flawless mouth, but other than that, he was unmarked by the fight.

Blaine didn't know how to answer his girlfriend. _Because I was at his house yesterday working on our community service project _would have been a totally legitimate answer and yet he couldn't seem to get the words out.

"I swiped it from him," Kurt stepped in and Blaine looked at him in shock. "I was pissed after the fight yesterday. One more way to get back at him. But I figure he might as well have it back now. Frankly, I'm bored of this whole situation." He sniffed his nose slightly as he said it, holding out the skateboard as though it were a dead thing. Blaine took it gingerly, trying to meet Kurt's eyes, but Kurt refused. There was something about the way he had said he was bored that felt- real- like a real dismissal. But of what? Their friendship? Could they even call it that? Blaine felt stupid for thinking Kurt might have actually liked him somewhat, and even stupider for being so wounded about it. He knew he should be grateful for Kurt having stepped in to offer an explanation but instead, he was offended. What the fuck was going on with him?

Quinn was looking at him expectantly, waiting for confirmation of Kurt's story.

"It's true," Blaine said, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

"Well as delightful as it is to watch the two of you primates interact, I have "Animal Kingdom" recorded on my TV at home, so I think I'll use that instead if I need a reference point. I'm going to class." With that, Kurt turned on his heel. Blaine closed his eyes at the disinterest that had been in his voice. Had he imagined everything yesterday? The connection they'd had in Kurt's bedroom? Wasn't this what he wanted though- for things to go back to normal? Why did it feel so bad?

"Baby. Baby," Quinn tugged on his sleeve. "Why did you let that little faggot just walk off after _stealing_ your skateboard? Have you gone soft?"

Blaine ignored the rage that boiled in the pit of his stomach at her ignorant words and simply said, "I'm too tired to give a fuck about him today. Let's just go to class."

"Okay," Quinn agreed after a few moments. "Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about. My dad's leaving for a business trip this weekend, and my mom's going with him. They wanted to make it some romantic getaway. They're leaving early." She stood on tiptoe to whisper into his ear. "Tomorrow night," she breathed. He felt chills go down his spine. It was obvious what she wanted, and this hadn't been the first time she had given him the go-ahead. For some reason though, he had always avoided it.

"Blaine? Do you want to come over?" Quinn prodded. "Spend the night? I can get into Daddy's liquor cabinet."

"I'll think about it," Blaine offered. Quinn's face fell and she began to pout unattractively. "It's not that I don't want to Babe. You just know how my parents are. I'll have to see if I can convince them to let me spend the night at one of the guys' houses. I'll let you know, okay?" He kissed her soundly then, feeling her melt in his arms, her anger fading at the gesture.

"Okay," she said, winded from their kiss. She linked her fingers with his and they walked to class.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Blaine spent most of his day dreading running into Kurt, yet searching for him at the same time. The day ticked by in a terribly slow manner. Blaine had to pinch himself every couple of minutes to keep from falling asleep in class and he _knew_ he'd be a wreck at football practice later.

He was shocked when, in last period English class, someone walked in a few minutes after the bell rang. Blaine could tell it was Kurt without even turning around because of the sound of his combat boots on the floor. His stomach tensed up instantly as he heard the chair at the other end of his table scrape out and saw the long body flop into it. Of course, the only empty seat in the room today had to be next to him. The guy that usually sat there was out.

"Mr. Hummel," The English teacher said to acknowledge Kurt's presence. "Glad to have you joining us for AP English. My notes say you were supposed to arrive on Monday…"

"Yes well, I got a bit lost trying to find the new classroom," Kurt said jauntily but Mrs. Talbot just smiled in her slightly senile manner.

"That's fine. You're here now. Mr. Rawlins told me you were finding the Honors level English class too simple for you?"

"That's right Ma'am," Kurt drawled enchantingly. "I've already studied all the material."

"Well I hope you'll find this class a little more challenging," Mrs. Talbot told him with another friendly smile. Kurt had the woman totally wrapped around his finger. Blaine shook his head in disgust.

"Well I think you'll all be happy to hear that today we'll be watching a movie adaptation of the play we've been reading recently. That's Tennessee Williams' _A Streetcar Named Desire_. It's one of those works that I think you really can't appreciate until you've seen it acted out."

Blaine had never been so grateful to hear they were watching a movie in his life. Now he wouldn't have to worry about talking to Kurt. And maybe he could even catch a quick nap without Mrs. Talbot noticing.

Mrs. Talbot dimmed the lights and Blaine relaxed in his seat, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his hands. He couldn't help but notice the way that Kurt's body was stretched languidly under the table. His legs were so long and surprisingly well-muscled. There was the bulge near his crotch again, even more obvious today in those ridiculous pants. Blaine refused to turn and look at Kurt but he couldn't get the boy out of his peripheral vision and he was finding it very distracting.

About five minutes into the movie, Kurt stretched, lifting both arms above his head so that his shirt was pulled taut against his chest, licking his lips lazily. Blaine nearly choked on his own tongue. What was Kurt's game with this? He adjusted in his seat, disturbed at the heat that was pooling in his stomach and trying to diffuse it somehow by shuffling around. He ran a hand through his wild curls and placed his head in his hands for a moment to try and get a hold of himself. He sat back up then and realized immediately it had been a bad idea.

Kurt was now running his long fingers languorously across his own collarbone, tracing patterns into the perfect skin. He distractedly grazed his fingers down the V of his shirt, reaching the middle button and pulling the shirt open almost completely before running back up his chest again and repeating the same routine. Kurt's eyes were trained on the screen ahead of him and he looked completely engrossed in the movie. But Blaine couldn't believe that.

For a moment, Kurt closed his eyes, seemingly almost with pleasure, as he continued his slow movements with his hand, and it drove Blaine nearly mad. He could feel himself, stiffening, ever-so-slightly, and his cheeks turned completely red at the thought. It was not possible right now that _Kurt Hummel_ was turning him on. There was absolutely no way this was happening. It must have been due to his being so tired. His own body was confused. He raised his hand and hurriedly excused himself to the bathroom, which was empty to his relief. He splashed cold water on his cheeks several times before leaning back against the wall, trying to slow his breathing.

"Fancy meeting you here."

Blaine started violently.

"God! What's a guy have to do to get a little privacy around here?" Blaine asked Kurt in exasperation.

Kurt smirked. "Looking for _privacy_ are we, Anderson? I thought your girlfriend took care of you this morning. Or did she leave you high and dry?"

Blaine shook his head. "Shut the fuck up Man."

"You _are_ touchy today. Christ what's wrong with you? You look like hell." Kurt approached him carefully, his fingers reaching out, tentatively. He finally let the tips of them rest upon the slightly purpled skin under Blaine's eye. Blaine struggled not to flinch.

"Does it hurt?" Kurt asked quietly, and Blaine knew this was his way of apologizing, even if he'd never say it outright.

"Barely," Blaine muttered uncomfortably.

"You know you never did tell me why you wanted to get away from home so badly yesterday." Kurt's voice had gone completely soft now, all of that affected toughness melted right out of it. Blaine couldn't resist this side of Kurt.

"Sometimes," he closed his eyes as Kurt gently traced down his cheek with his finger. He struggled for words, trying to ignore the sensations that this slight touch was sending coursing through his body. It certainly wasn't helping the _situation_ in his pants that he'd come here to escape in the first place. "Sometimes, home isn't a very happy place to be." He had to bite his lip from letting a small moan escape as Kurt's finger trailed across his jaw. Suddenly, the realization of what was happening dawned on him and he jerked away.

"What are you doing Hummel?" He asked, his voice weaker than it should've been. He thought he saw a trace of hurt flash through Kurt's eyes, but he was certain he'd imagined it. The boy standing before him looked as smug and aloof as ever.

"Examining your shiner Anderson. You straight boys get so jumpy." He waved a hand dismissively at Blaine. "Trust me Curly-Q. If I wanted you, you'd know."

The words stung for some reason Blaine couldn't explain and it made him angry.

"And you just assume I'd want you back?" He spat.

Kurt looked at him with a mixture of amusement and surprise. "I've never been turned down before."

"Yeah and from the looks of things you don't turn anyone down either."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Just that, it doesn't seem like you say no to many guys. Which, whatever, your prerogative. But you might want to be careful. HIV is a pretty big risk among the gay community. Especially amongst the slutty gays."

Kurt was mad now; Blaine could see it in the involuntarily clenching of his jaw, the flexing of his biceps as he curled his hands into fists. Blaine knew he'd been out of line with what he said, but he was pleased to see it had had the desired affect.

"What the fuck do you think you're talking about?"

"Oh I don't know Kurt. How about that booty call that showed up at your house yesterday afternoon, for starters?"

Blaine was shocked to hear laughter. Kurt was actually laughing at him. He was laughing at _Blaine._

"Oh my God," Kurt said when he caught his breath. "Are you _jealous_ Anderson?"

"No I'm not fucking jealous," Blaine snapped immediately.

"Alright, alright." Kurt held up his hands in surrender. "Fine. You're not jealous. Then why do you care who showed up at my house yesterday?"

"I don't care. I just think you should be careful. If you keep whoring around like that, you're gonna get some sort of disease…"

"For your information Blaine, I do not _whore_ _around_. If I choose to be intimate with somebody, it's because I'm interested in them. Do I get guys? Sure, I do. But I'm just like any other average horny high school guy. The only difference is, I'm not hooking up with girls. That doesn't mean I'm a _whore_, nor does it mean that I don't use protection." Kurt shook his head at Blaine's lack of information.

"So that guy _was_ a booty call?"

"That guy was a friend," Kurt answered non-committally.

"I thought that's what we were. After yesterday. You told that guy I was your friend…"

Kurt's eyes sparkled with interest. "Were you eavesdropping Curly-Q? Is that why you ran out so fast you forgot your precious skateboard?"

"I heard what I heard," Blaine replied unapologetically. "And I have the decency to know when it's time for me to leave."

Kurt just shook his head. "You really are something else." He moved to the urinal and Blaine closed his eyes.

"Come on Man. Can't you wait till I leave?"

"Are you kidding me right now Blaine? I can't even pee with you in here? I'm not _diseased _for Christ's sakes!"

_I know that. I just don't think I can handle the idea of being in the same room as you while your dick is out. _Blaine just swallowed.

"Seriously. Let's just…keep it kosher."

"Alright," Kurt said slowly, not sure exactly how to take Blaine's words. "Since apparently your fag-fear has returned, I'll go use the bathroom elsewhere."

"I'm not afraid!" Blaine insisted.

"Whatever. It's your problem, not mine. But we _do_ have to get together today and actually talk about this stupid project."

"I have football practice today."

"Come over afterwards."

"Fine. But I can't stay long."

"That's quite alright. Gives me all the more time to go and get my fuck on with some random guys I met at the bar last weekend." Kurt quirked an eyebrow, watching Blaine's face carefully.

"Seriously Anderson. Learn to take a joke." He turned to leave the bathroom but stopped for a moment. "I'll see you after your football practice."

"Aren't you coming back to English?"

"Nah, I think I'm done with this place for the day," Kurt said. "And by the way," he added, turning slightly, a frown on his face. "Before you go around calling me out for my after-school activities, you might want to rethink all the PDA you engage in with your 'hot-piece-of-ass girlfriend' in the hallways in between class. It's disgusting, and I'm pretty sure the entire school could catch your STDs just from being within a five-foot radius." He shrugged innocently and walked out.

Blaine slumped back against the wall, unable to stop the thought that was happily swimming in his head. _From the sounds of it, Kurt was kind of jealous too. _


	7. Drowning

**A/N Sorry for the wait for this chapter! I've come down with something and while you would think it would give me more time to write, it also has completely drained me of energy. I wasn't totally sure where I wanted this to go at first too, so it sort of took me a while to sit down and hash it out. Anyway, I hope it makes some coherent sense and I'll try to have the next chapter up ASAP! [All depending on how fast I recover etc.] Thank you bunches for reading and reviewing. I would send you all hugs, kisses and cupcakes if I could. Also please know that when you review, I do my best to consider what you're saying and incorporate it into the story. So if you like or don't like something, anything at all, please please let me know! xoxox**

* * *

_I find shelter, in this way  
__Under cover, hide away  
__Can you hear, when I say  
__I have never felt this way_

_Could I be, was I there?  
It felt so crystal in the air  
I still want to drown, whenever you leave  
Please teach me gently, how to breathe_

-Shelter by The xx

Kurt skipped out of English early like he had told Blaine, but he didn't go directly home. Normally he would've appreciated the alone time. As much as he loved socializing and going to the clubs on the weekends, he liked to be alone just as much. It wasn't a widely known fact, but he had a creative streak that craved silence and cultivation. Sometimes he sat alone in his room for hours, reading, writing, composing. Not today though. Today he would go crazy sitting there waiting for Blaine all that time.

Kurt had driven his bike to a small lake not too far from his home. He often liked to come here, dangle his feet over the edge of the bridge and think as he watched the sun setting. And today he had a lot to think about. He was antsy. He took out his pack of American Spirits and lit one, but it only sat in his hand, a slow-burning place-holder while he let himself get lost in thought.

Blaine. Blaine was a conundrum. For the first time since Kurt didn't know how long, another guy was keeping him on his toes. Kurt hadn't been lying when he'd told Blaine that he'd never been turned down before. At least, once he came out and figured out which guys were the right ones to go after. He wasn't the type to crush on straight guys, but he usually had a pretty good idea when a guy wasn't exactly as straight as he pretended to be, and Kurt had proven his own instincts right time and time again. Of course, since coming to Lima, Kurt had made friends, but he hadn't really found many romantic interests. He knew he wasn't going to be here long and the one thing he had learned in his three years as an out and proud gay was that gay relationships could get really messy. One guy might think it was just sex between friends, but the other guy was bound to be more attached. There would inevitably be tears, and drama. Better to look for casual hook ups than get involved in anything regular. He didn't want to fuck up his chances of getting out of here.

And he certainly hadn't intended to get in this deep with Blaine, even if he didn't know what "this deep" meant. Something was going on there, something below the surface. It was true, Kurt had found the guy instantly attractive, and while he was aware the boy had a girlfriend and wasn't exactly gay, the possibility didn't seem out of the question. But Kurt had met guys like this before. Popular, handsome, too nice for his own good. Confused about his sexuality, but more than that, confused about being confused. Not ready to come out, but ready to try something. And then, once Kurt had broken him in and helped him accept himself, devoted. Guys like him tended to get clingy after a while. He had little patience for it.

Kurt took a long drag of the cigarette, barely noticing what he was doing, it was so second nature to him. He let the smoke slowly seep out of his mouth and remembered a time, not _so_ long ago, when he had been a romantic himself. He hadn't grown up so cynical. He had dreamed of his first boyfriend, had planned for it. A first love was a powerful thing; he had learned that easily enough from watching movies. But after…after everything that had happened, Kurt had become jaded. He had stopped viewing relationships in such a positive light and instead learned to mistrust them, to fear commitment, to be turned off by boys who clung to him, boys who said I love you, boys who begged him to never leave. They were all so pathetic. Just like he had been once. He felt bad, sometimes, breaking their hearts, but figured they would have to learn about the real world eventually. If someone was going to teach them, it might as well be him. And he always tried to be as kind as could, as considerate as possible considering the circumstances. Of course, his number one priority was keeping his own heart at a safe distance from everybody, no matter whose feelings got shredded in the process.

He took another drag, coughing a little as some of the smoke went the wrong way, not really focused on what he was doing. The water was beautiful at this time of day, but it would really be its most glorious around 5. But Kurt couldn't afford to stay that long. Blaine would be waiting.

Blaine. The name had been ingrained in his head since he had first laid eyes on the boy. The prospect of a good chase was always tantalizing, but this felt like something more almost. It had Kurt nearly _obsessed_. Something about Blaine was different. There were real secrets there. There was someone very interesting buried underneath it all. Kurt chastised himself mentally. If he wasn't careful, he could really get himself into some hot water with this kid. He didn't want that. He wanted to get in, and get out. And if it turned out getting in was too difficult altogether, then he'd just give up. Blaine was not worth all that he had to lose. He was going to go to New York City when he graduated and nothing was getting in his way, least of all a pretty hazel-eyed small-town boy.

He shook his head. He needed to stop dwelling on it so much. There needed to be less conversation, more physicality. He had accepted that he was going to be spending time with Blaine, so he definitely wasn't going to let it go to waste. But it felt like the emotional side of things was developing much too fast. And they hadn't even known each other a week! But Blaine kept reaching, kept prodding at Kurt, reaching parts of him that no one had touched in years. Kurt had already let himself be vulnerable with Blaine far too many times. He needed to put a stop to all of this. And he would, he decided. Today.

**x-x-x-x-x-x**

Blaine showed up at Kurt's house after practice as he had said he would. He was freshly showered and wearing clean, but simple clothes. He had run a small amount of gel through his hair but mostly, it was unrestrained, drying freely into wild curls. Kurt could practically feel his mouth watering as he opened the door.

"Hey. You can head downstairs. I've just gotta grab my stuff," Kurt informed him, trying not to make any sustained eye contact.

"Sure I won't find any other _visitors_ waiting down there?" Blaine asked with a smirk in his voice.

"Nope. Completely freed up for you," Kurt said dryly.

"How thoughtful."

Kurt sighed and shook his head as he watched the dark-haired boy descend the stairs into his bedroom. He didn't feel more peaceful now that he had come to a conclusion about where he wanted things to go with Blaine. In fact, he had a sickly feeling about the whole thing. He had finally decided that all that he wanted was for them to get this stupid community service project over with and be done with each other. As little interaction as possible would be ideal. He wasn't going to let this kid get to his head. As far as Kurt was concerned, Blaine was straight and unavailable and Kurt was not interested anyway.

Of course that was all a lie, but Kurt could live with a lie, when it was necessary. He headed downstairs feeling slightly nauseated. Blaine was already sitting on his bed like he had the day before, looking completely comfortable for being in someone else's room. Kurt couldn't help but feel undone by the sight of Blaine on his _bed_. He looked so good, so handsome and naïve and fresh. All Kurt wanted was to push him down and climb on top of him and let their bodies do the talking.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Uhm, why don't we sit on the floor?"

"Oh. Sorry," Blaine jumped off his bed and stretched out in the middle of the carpet.

"Uhm, okay," Kurt said, cursing the high-pitched sound of his voice. Why was he acting so nervous?

"Kurt, is everything cool? You seem off…"

"Everything is fine!" Kurt snapped unintentionally.

"Geez Man, sorry, didn't mean to offend you."

"Look can we just do this project and get it over with?"

"Fine," Blaine said, looking confused at Kurt's behavior. He continued nevertheless. "Alright so do you have any ideas?"

"No."

"Well, I was actually doing some research and I found something which I thought you might think was sort of cool." Blaine pulled a sheet of paper from his backpack and handed it to Kurt.

Kurt took a look at the printout in front of him, his eyes slowly widening as he took in what he reading. It was a page about a gay and lesbian center that was being built in Lima Heights. The group behind it had needed to halt the process midway because of a lack of funds. The building of the center had been put on hold until further notice.

Kurt swallowed quickly and looked at Blaine. "What is this about?"

"It's like the paper says. A gay and lesbian center," Blaine was grinning at him like an idiot.

"I don't understand what it has to do with us and our project," Kurt said, trying to keep his voice level.

Blaine looked confused by Kurt's behavior once more. "I thought we could, I don't know, try and raise money somehow for the center. I figured if we talked to Figgins he might let us do some fundraising at school. And at the same time, it'll be raising awareness for the center and the issues they're trying to deal with." He shrugged his shoulders as if it was the most natural thing in the world, that he should be suggesting working with the Gay and Lesbian center for their community service project.

"I don't understand." Kurt shoved the paper back at Blaine who took it in surprise, his thick eyebrows furrowing.

"I thought this was something you would be interested in," he offered by way of explanation.

Kurt scoffed. "Are you trying to make a mockery of me Anderson?"

"What? No." Blaine looked offended.

"It just doesn't make any sense. Why the fuck would you suggest helping out a gay and lesbian center. Wouldn't that be bad for your reputation? I don't get what your game is here, but I know that I don't trust you as far as I can throw you."

"God Kurt, you really are something else, aren't you? You keep preaching to me every day about how you're proud of your sexuality and how people like me will never understand, and then when I actually take what you're saying to heart and try to meet you halfway, you throw it in my face?"

"People have gone to more elaborate measures to make fun of me before," Kurt said with a casual shrug, but Blaine could tell from the way he was gnawing on his lower lip that what he was saying was much more to him that casual.

"Kurt. Whatever you might believe or have seen, I'm actually not an asshole."

Kurt chuckled a little at that. "I'm not so sure I believe that."

"Believe whatever you have to then. But I don't even understand exactly _how_ you think I would be using this to make fun of you or something." Blaine sounded genuinely frustrated. But Kurt still didn't trust him.

"Today in school, you were- this just isn't consistent with the guy I've met so far," he said finally, releasing the words all in one quick exhale.

"To be fair," Blaine said quietly, "you aren't exactly transparent yourself. And as far as I go," he leaned toward Kurt almost conspiratorially. "There are a lot of surprises underneath all this."

_That's exactly the problem,_ Kurt thought. He continued staring at the carpet they sat on, biting his lip. He hadn't realized how close Blaine had gotten to him in the meantime until he heard his voice speaking right in his ear.

"You always do that when there's something bothering you."

Kurt looked up. Blaine was staring at him, his golden-hazel eyes impossibly magnetic as he looked, transfixed into Kurt's blue ones.

"Do what?" Kurt breathed, unable to look away.

"Bite your lip like that. It's…distracting…" Blaine trailed off and Kurt felt his breath hitch in his chest in a way that he hadn't felt it do in years. How was it possible that this dumb jock was having this kind of an effect on him?

He could've let it happen. He could've just closed his eyes and let Blaine kiss him right then and there. He was almost certain that had been what the popular boy was going to do. But for the first time in a long time, Kurt stopped it.

"It's getting late," he said, shaking Blaine out of his trance-like state.

Blaine stared at Kurt hard, trying to read his face.

"And you said you couldn't stay long," Kurt added.

"Right." Blaine coughed, clearing his throat. "Okay. Quinn's probably going to be calling me soon anyway." He looked around Kurt's room, which was beginning to darken as the sunlight streaming through the windows started to dim.

"Anyway, what do you say about the project?"

"It's fine," Kurt said distractedly. Really, Blaine's words about Quinn were ringing in his head. He couldn't believe this guy was really going to nearly kiss him and then make a casual comment about his girlfriend right afterwards, like that _didn't _almost happen. It was a good thing he had stopped it when he did. Blaine was obviously not the guy to get involved with.

"Seriously?" Blaine questioned. "You were super against it like, ten minutes ago."

"I said it's fine," Kurt answered coldly.

"Dude you've been acting really weird this afternoon. Are you sure nothing's up?"

Kurt shook his head. "Nothing at all is up, Blaine. Now I suggest you get going."

"What, you got someone else coming over again like yesterday."

"Yeah. My dad."

Blaine frowned a little. "And your dad would really be that opposed to seeing me over here because?"

"He has enough things to worry about without having to wonder about who I do and don't associate with. Also, I'd caution you, because Finn Hudson could show up at any moment too, you know. And I don't think you'd want him to find you here."

"Whatever Man. I'm getting out of your hair. I'll type up the proposal and hand it into Figgins tomorrow. You don't have to worry about it."

"Great," Kurt answered emotionless.

"Great," Blaine replied and if Kurt didn't know better, he would've thought the boy almost sounded mad.

Blaine grabbed his skateboard from where it was resting against the wall and turned to look at Kurt. "I know you pride yourself on being really proud and above all the assholes and everything. But maybe if you took a second to take a closer look, you'd see that sometimes you judge people too easily too. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow I guess." He grabbed his stuff and headed upstairs, leaving Kurt alone in the ever-darkening bedroom.

**x-x-x-x-x-x**

"Kurt! Dinner!" Kurt's family had been home for a couple hours by now but Kurt still hadn't emerged from his bedroom. This wasn't entirely unusual for him, but there was no way he was going to get out of dinner without his father making a big thing out of it. Burt had always been really invested in family time, but now especially, ever since marrying Carole, he insisted that they eat family dinners together. Kurt didn't really know what he was trying to play at. He had spent so many years living with his dad as his only family- he didn't know anything about having a mom or a brother, nor did he want to find out about it. What was the point? He was practically out of the house by now, anyway.

But he was trying. At least a little bit. For his dad. His stepbrother could be kind of stupid, but overall was a fairly nice guy for a jock. His stepmom was awfully nice too; he couldn't deny that as much as he wanted to. But he couldn't help but resent his dad a little bit anyway. What had been wrong with how things had been? Hadn't Kurt been good enough for him?

He didn't understand why they had had to be the ones to move to Lima, why _he_ had needed to switch schools rather than Finn.

"Finn's in line for some great football scholarships from the high school out there. You know, apparently they have a really good music program too. Apparently Finn is in their Glee Club. I guess they've won Nationals a few times. Sounds like your kind of thing," his dad had told him.

Finn, Finn, Finn. Finn this and Finn that was all Kurt ever heard anymore. It was making him start to resent the kid, and he didn't really want to. Like he said, Finn was nice. Finn was _great_. Everything his dad had ever wanted in a son but hadn't gotten in Kurt.

Whatever, Kurt thought, trying to dismiss his plaguing thoughts. Just another way that the world had let him down and showed him that, no matter how you much you might care about somebody or try to be perfect for them, you'd never be what they wanted you to be.

But Kurt loved his dad even so and he definitely didn't want to be the cause of any added stress in his dad's life. So, he tried to do whatever would make Burt happy.

He trudged up the stairs like he was headed to a funeral.

Dinner smelled delicious as always. Carole had marinated steaks and made mashed potatoes and a Caesar salad. Kurt didn't allow himself to savor the meals that she made though. His policy for dinner was much like his policy about romance. Get in and get out.

He had just sat down at the table when Finn came bounding in, taking the seat across from him.

"Hey Man! Didn't see you, like, all day." Finn had already shoveled some of the potatoes into his mouth and Kurt tried not to visibly grimace as his stepbrother talked around the wads of food he was chewing.

"Kindly, Finn, remember to chew before speaking. And I know. I was busy after school."

"How's your lip doing?" Finn asked, disregarding Kurt's comment about manners entirely. Burt and Carole had sat down at this point and were helping themselves to the food. Kurt was daintily cutting his steak into small bites. Finn's comment startled him.

"Uhm, it's _fine_," he said with a slight hiss, trying to send Finn signals with his eyes that he shouldn't bring it up in front of the parents. Finn caught on to Kurt's frantic facial contortions, but it was already too late.

"Your lip? What's wrong with your lip?" Burt asked, an edge of concern in his voice.

"Nothing. Cold sore," Kurt answered hastily.

Burt narrowed his eyes. "You don't get cold sores Kurt. You've always told me they were disgusting and nothing more than a slightly glorified version of an STD."

Finn looked at Kurt, not understanding why Kurt wasn't just coming clean with his dad.

"Kurt? Finn?" Burt turned to look at his stepson. "Would someone like to tell me what I'm missing?"

"Kurt got into a fight at school the other day and he split his lip," Finn said quickly.

"Finn!" Kurt yelled in dismay.

"Sorry Dude," Finn apologized, going back to his potatoes.

"That true Kurt?" Burt asked.

"No. Well. Not exactly. I mean, I wouldn't really call it a fight, it was more of a scuffle…"

"Oh Kurt, Honey," Carole interjected worriedly. "Finn how could you let this happen?"

"I didn't know you were having problems with bullies again Kurt," His father said with a hard glance in Kurt's direction. Kurt knew disappointment when he saw it; his father was upset he hadn't told him. _Goddamnit Finn! _he thought before squaring his shoulders and setting about calming his father down.

"I'm not getting bullied. This wasn't from a bully. I- I started the fight. Some kid was being ignorant and I couldn't stand it any longer so I attacked him."

Finn looked like he was about to say something again but one look from Kurt made him close his mouth again.

"Honestly, it's nothing. I was just being hot-headed."

"You attacked someone?" Burt asked in slight disbelief.

"Yeah Dad. Don't you know by now I can take care of himself?"

"Kurt, I'm proud of you for standing up for what you believe in, but you of all people know violence isn't the answer," his dad said, shaking his head.

"I know. I don't know what got into me. Anyway, it's all fine now," Kurt said, smiling brightly.

"Did you get in trouble?" Carole inquired.

"Oh yeah, well, we just got a few community service hours. Like I said, no big deal."

Kurt's dad was looking at him like he wasn't sure if he quite believed him, but he let it go and they continued with their supper.

Kurt's thoughts were reeling. His first instinct was to be furious with Finn for being so dumb, but the more he thought about it, he realized. It was Blaine. Ever since he had entered his life, Blaine had really started messing things up. And Kurt had had about all he could stand.


	8. Hold On Me

**A/N: Heyo Lovely Readers. Apologies for not posting yesterday but hopefully this makes up for it. Warning: sexually explicit scene in this chapter! [Don't get too excited.] I'm not going to warn you every chapter, but I will at least for this first one. Also, don't hate me when you get to the end. The next chapter is already in the works. So read! Review! Read! Review! Read! Review! xoxox :) Btw, considering posting this on scarvesandcoffee- I'll let you know if I do!**

* * *

_I can't sleep, now you've departed  
I can't eat, now that you've started  
And all the time you spend in my head  
I feel sick; I feel sick again  
I close my eyes, and you are all I see  
Your eyes staring back at me  
And I shake to wake myself again  
Shake off your hold, your hold on me_

-Hold On Me by Any Color Black

Kurt did not sleep well that night, not well at all. He lay in his double bed in the basement, trying to do everything possible to ease his mind and allow himself to sleep. He wanted to play piano and get some in some progress on a composition he had been working on, but he knew that would wake up his father and Carole, and that would definitely make them mad.

He rolled over and pulled the pillow over his head, trying to shut out the glaring light of the moon coming in through the window on his door. He wondered if he could get away with going out to the lake at this hour of night. But once again, the answer was probably better safe than sorry. It would definitely be a miracle if the sound of his bike kick starting didn't startle Burt out of his peaceful respite.

So instead, Kurt was forced to simply stay in his bed, his thoughts running out of control, with no way to stop them. The most frustrating part wasn't even the lack of sleep; it was the _reason_ for the lack of sleep. Stupid, stupid Blaine. When Kurt finally did doze off, he was awoken by his alarm clock in what felt like a mere thirty minutes. He had actually been sleeping a couple hours, but it hadn't done him much good. Even his sleeping thoughts were filled with fantasies of handsome boys with dark curls and olive skin. In his dream he was lying back on the white, crystal sands of a beach on a Greek island. He would be staring off into the green-blue swell of ocean when suddenly the boys- because there must've been hundreds of them- would emerge from the water and start walking towards him. Water glistened on the skin of each mirage, every one a perfect, beautiful copy of Blaine himself. The fantasy would end as Kurt reached out to touch one of the boys. Each boy he reached for would disintegrate immediately upon contact until there was nobody left. Kurt woke up sweating each time only to fall back asleep and have a similar version of the fantasy/nightmare repeat itself. When his alarm woke him, he had a stiff tent in his pajama pants and no time to relieve himself of it.

He also looked like death walking.

"Dad, I think I'm too sick for school today," Kurt moaned at the breakfast table as Finn eagerly ate the eggs and bacon that Carole had placed in front of him. Kurt's own small bowl of granola mixed with yogurt tasted like sawdust in his mouth.

"I remember the last time I heard that," Burt said, wolfing down his own plate of eggs and bacon, then reaching for the hash browns. "I believe it was when you were trying to avoid the bullies at school. Still wanna stick with your same story from last night about attacking that other guy?"

Kurt nodded vigorously. "Yeah I wanna stick to that story because it's not a _story_. _I _beat that kid up. _No one _is bullying me at McKinley. Finn?" he prompted his stepbrother.

"It's true Burt," Finn said with a friendly smile at Kurt, pleased by this sudden camaraderie that his stepbrother was showing him.

"Alright," Burt said, putting down his fork. "In that case, I don't see why you can't go to school."

"I told you Dad. I'm sick." Kurt coughed half-heartedly.

"Baloney!" Burt said dismissively. Carole furrowed her brow and looked at Kurt questioningly. "Are you sure Burt? Kurt does look awfully pale." She placed the back of her cool hand on Kurt's forehead and he had to resist closing his eyes and pretending like it was his own mother, alive again, doing that to him as a little boy. So comforting, a mother's touch. He had forgotten…

"He does feel a little warm," she said.

Burt looked up, concerned. "You sick?"

Kurt nodded. "I _told_ you."

"Well, Carole's a nurse. If she says you're not well, I guess you're not well."

"He certainly doesn't look well. How did you sleep last night Honey?"

"Terrible. It was so hot…" Kurt trailed off, trying to appear as miserable and weak as he could to appeal to the sympathies of his stepmother.

"Oh the poor dear. Of course you can stay home today," Carole decided, shooting Burt a look, who put up his hands in defense.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry for not believing you Kid. You need anything?"

"No, I think I'll be alright if I just sleep."

"Yes Dear. You go on downstairs and sleep. I'll call the school to let them know you won't be in today."

"Thanks," Kurt told Carole appreciatively with a faint smile for his father. He trudged back downstairs and, once he was out of sight, threw off the clothes he had quickly assembled for school. Thank God he had convinced them to let him stay home. Not only did he not feel like facing Blaine, but that outfit he had thrown together in a sleep-deprived haze this morning looked absolutely hideous. He crawled under the covers, praying for no more thoughts of curly-haired boys on beaches, and fell asleep.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Blaine kept his eyes peeled for Kurt all day but did not see him. Of course, it wouldn't be the first time. It was entirely possible Kurt was avoiding him. Why did he care so much anyway?

_Because I want to be his friend_, he reassured himself. And why not? He had always been a nice kid, friendly, willing to hang out with almost anybody. Far from the way his mother had tried to make him when she raised him. Altogether too open-minded for her liking. But it's who he was. Him wanting to hang around Kurt was no different.

But it certainly felt different. And it was odd, admittedly, that he should get so down about the boy being absent from the hallways. He hadn't even known him a week. He wasn't even sure that he could say they were really friends. He honestly never knew where he stood with Kurt. It was hot and cold every time he saw him.

Quinn found him in the hallways, smiling as she leaned over to kiss his cheek. She started to slide her hands down his back, trying to deepen the display of affection but Blaine was stiff in response.

"What's wrong?" she pouted.

"I don't want to get in trouble again with Sue for PDA. I get any more black marks on my record and I'm going to be in serious hot water with my parents."

"With your mom, you mean. You know Blaine, normally I would find a teenage boy pandering to his washed-up, middle-aged, society-whore mother's every beck and call a little bit disgusting. But it's nice to know that at least _one_ woman has some influence in your life. So at least it's not my gender."

"God Quinn. You can't just say shit like that, you know?" Blaine snapped, but it was all true and he knew it.

"Sorry Baby, just stating the facts," Quinn said with a malicious little smile before leaning into his ear to whisper, "You never did tell me if you were coming over tonight."

Blaine groaned internally. He had forgotten. Quinn wanted to have sex tonight. He was supposed to tell her if he could stay over.

"Quinn, I'm really sorry, but I- I've got a big test tomorrow and my parents are on my case and I really just don't think I can make it," he fumbled.

Quinn narrowed her eyes at him, able to spot a dying attempt like a shark sniffing blood on its prey. She attacked.

"Alright Blaine, that's fine. I guess this step in our relationship just doesn't matter to you. Which means this relationship must not matter to you either. And if that's the case then your status at this school must not matter, nor your parents' happiness, nor your future. But if you want to throw that all away because you have a _test_, which by the way, I know you don't, then by all means, go right ahead. Don't let me get in the way of your pathetic life anymore!" She turned to go after delivering her little speech but Blaine caught her by the wrist.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I don't-"

"And I hope you know Blaine," she whirled, apparently not finished with her rant. "That I am not _nice_ when I am dumped. In fact, I am cruel. I am crueler than anything you've ever seen before. So if you break up with me, prepare for your name to be attached to every negative rumor under the sun which I will make sure to spread all around this school so fast that you won't even have the time to put that stupid gel in your hair before people are pounding down the door of your house. Because _nobody _breaks up with Quinn Fabray without regretting it. And trust me when I say that everything I say about you, will go viral. And your reputation will be destroyed, not just here but for miles. There won't be a school in the state of Ohio that you can attend without them knowing who you are before you even have the chance to set foot in the door."

"Quinn, listen to me! I'll come over, alright? I'm sorry." Blaine finally managed to say. Quinn looked at him, her cheeks flushed from her yelling, a look of surprise on her face.

"Wonderful," she breathed. She reached up for his face and kissed him full on the mouth and this time, he was too afraid to pull away. "I'll see you at 7:30 tonight."

x-x-x-x-x-x

Kurt's phone had died sometime while he was sleeping and he hadn't bothered charging it. When he finally rolled over and squinted at the clock on his wall, it told him he had slept almost the entire school day. He pulled the pillow back over his head and shut his eyes. He should've done something productive but he honestly hadn't even felt like moving. He felt well-rested now, but was dreading the next day. Staying home from school had only managed to push his problems off further, rather than alleviate anything.

He forced himself out of bed and into the shower. At least he could try and make some sort of use of his afternoon.

When he got out of the shower, he threw on the discarded clothes from that morning. No need to dirty another outfit uselessly. He spent a very brief amount of time styling his hair, compared to the 45 minutes it often took on a daily basis. The result was a messy, carefree look that made him look a little bit more wild than normal, and rather sexy, if he did say so himself. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror, noting with pleasure that his complexion had somewhat returned to its usual brilliance.

He was sitting at his kitchen table, drinking an afternoon cup of coffee and eating a banana when his now-charging phone began to buzz. He noticed he had several missed texts.

There was a text from Puck:

**Thursday, 11:32 AM**

_**Party 2moro night at a buddy's house. Lots of good booze + weed. U in?**_

And one from Finn:

**Thursday 1:17 PM**

_**Hey dude. Sorry about last nite. Didn't mean to spill in front of the parents. Hope ur feeling better. We all good? Let me no if u need anything.**_

Kurt sighed. His friends' texting grammar was nothing short of atrocious. He continued reading. The next one was from Santana:

**Thursday 2:06 PM**

_**Hummel- thought you should know that Finn let the beans spill to his dwarf girlfriend that you sing and compose in your room. All of Glee club is conspiring to get you to join and Schue said he's tracking you down. You have been warned. Also, party tomorrow. Be there. **_

And then, Blaine:

**Thursday 2:37 PM**

_**Figgins was wondering where you were when I handed in our community service proposal. He likes the idea though. I told him I'd make sure to fill you in on the details.**_

**Thursday 2:58 PM**

_**Finn said you were sick. You seemed fine last night…**_

**Thursday 3:10 PM**

_**I grabbed your English homework too. Football practice got cancelled for the afternoon so I'm coming over to drop it off now…Last chance to back out.**_

**Thursday 3:15 PM**

_**Alright seriously though, I'm coming over. Be there in 15. **_

Kurt groaned and glanced at the phone clock. It was 3:27 now. He definitely wasn't getting out of it. But at least he had showered and looked semi-presentable. And maybe it would be better, to have this confrontation with Blaine in privacy. Kurt didn't want to cause some big scene at school. This way, they could talk it out, he could explain to Blaine that he needed to back off, and they could go on barely speaking to each other except when entirely necessary, until they graduated.

Somehow he knew it definitely wasn't going to be that simple but being optimistic never hurt anyone did it.

The doorbell rang. Kurt squared his shoulders. Time to face the music.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Blaine was sitting on Quinn's bed sipping white wine from a crystal glass and wishing he could sink into the carpet and disappear. Anything, anything to get him out of this situation. He finished his glass and went to pour himself another. At least he could try and make sure he was drunk for the encounter.

Blaine sighed heavily. Quinn had been in the bathroom for almost twenty minutes, he was sure of it. He checked his phone and then restlessly tossed it away from him. He was pissed at himself for acting this way. He should be excited. Wasn't this what every guy dreamed of? The day they lost their virginity? And he got to do it with Quinn. It was finally happening. _Get excited Blaine. This is it._

He couldn't for the life of him understand why he was so lethargic about the whole situation. He hadn't always been so immune to the charms of sex. He _still_ wasn't immune to it. Fuck, he was a seventeen-year-old boy. He got hornier every day. He just wasn't that thrilled about doing it with Quinn.

It was probably because she reminded him so much of his mom. Or maybe he wasn't excited about it because he knew underneath it all how much it would actually thrill his mom, his doing the deed with Quinn. Like another way of solidifying their relationship. She'd honestly be proud of him. And her being proud of him always made him feel like throwing up a little bit.

But if he could just focus on Quinn's body, her hotness, he'd be fine. Of course it didn't help that she _looked_ like his mother a little bit too. Goddamnit. If he didn't do this now, he'd lose all his nerve.

"Quinn!" he called uncertainly.

"In a minute Baby!" Quinn called back and Blaine dragged a hand through his hair with exasperation. He closed his eyes and couldn't help his mind wandering back to earlier today, at Kurt's house.

He hadn't been sure that anyone was going to answer the door since Kurt hadn't responded to any of his texts. But something about it made him eager to try anyway; something about Kurt in general made him go to far extra lengths to get the boy's attention than he had ever remembered doing for Quinn- or anyone really for that matter.

Kurt _had_ answered the door, looking absolutely breathtaking in faded, ripped jeans that were worn and tight in _all_ the right places. His hair was perfectly mussed, much different than Kurt's usual style of elegant perfection, but Blaine had to say, he liked this new look.

He must've stared too long because Kurt began to shift uncomfortably. He handed Kurt his English assignment without waiting to be invited in. Kurt had closed the door and sat down on the couch, gesturing for Blaine to take a seat as well. And then he had told him that their friendship was over.

_I honestly don't know what's going on here but I'm just going to stop it before it goes to a place that we both are going to regret. I know you Blaine._

_You don't, _Blaine had insisted. But Kurt said he did. And he had then rattled off a description of Blaine so perfectly in tune with the boy's life that it almost scared him. Kurt had just shrugged sadly, as if he'd known this would be Blaine's reaction.

_I'm not what you need Blaine. What you need is your girlfriend, not to get mixed up with some faggot your senior year._

_I thought we could be friends, _Blaine had responded lamely, for lack of any better reasoning.

_Not everyone should be friends. I think the two of us fall into that category. Come on Blaine. Why complicate your life? I know I don't want to complicate mine. I'm getting out of here next year. And I'm not leaving anyone behind. Look, let's just agree to be civil and finish the project, but nothing more. No unnecessary talking or conversing at school or in class. Unless it's project related, we don't know each other. Okay? It's for the best._

Blaine had left Kurt's house feeling the worst he had all month, and that was saying something. He had no idea why, but he felt like he had lost something precious and irreplaceable.

But he had always sort of been like that- feet first into things before his body had time to follow. His infatuation with Kurt had been a desperate search for meaning and rebellion in the fury and monotony of his daily life. It pissed off Quinn, and his mom, and made him feel like he was part of something. That's all this was. Easily explainable. But it still stung to the core.

Quinn walked out of the bathroom then, giggling as she climbed up on the bed with Blaine in a pink, see-through negligee. She was a vision, even Blaine was smart enough to put that together.

"Somebody sure was impatient waiting out here," she said taking the wine bottle from Blaine. "Oh my God, you've almost polished off the whole bottle. Blaine!" she chastised, flicking his nose playfully.

"Lucky for you, I've got a private stash." She went to her closet and extracted a handle of Jack Daniels from beneath something. She held it up triumphantly, a gleam in her eyes.

Blaine's eyes widened at the sight of the hard liquor. "Where'd you get that?"

"A secret somebody," she said with a wink. "Uh uh. You don't need anything else right now," she told Blaine when he reached for the bottle.

"No fair. You didn't tell me you had liquor in the closet."

"That's because I didn't think we'd _need _it." Blaine watched in amazement as his girlfriend downed three quick shots from the handle.

"That should be enough for now," she said, placing the bottle and shot glass on her nightstand. She took Blaine's empty glass from him and placed it on the nightstand as well. Then, very deliberately, she took Blaine's hands in her smaller ones and climbed on top of his reclining figure so that she was perfectly straddling him, one smooth thigh pinning each side of his body to the bed.

"Let me make you feel good, Blaine," she whispered to him, leaning down to kiss him wetly. Blaine closed his eyes and tried to focus on kissing her but it made him feel dizzy to close his eyes. The whole room was spinning a little bit. He couldn't stop her though. He continued to kiss her with his eyes open, trying to regain control of his swirling senses.

By now she had reached for the hem of his shirt and was tugging it with some difficulty over his head. She ran his fingers all over his chest greedily and kissed him until she reached the waist band of his jeans.

She then sat up and untied her negligee so that all that remained covering her was a lacy pair of panties and a bra. Blaine tried to smile appreciatively, but he felt too dizzy to move. Quinn nodded, thinking his inability to speak was due to his being awestruck by her body.

She reached down and grabbed his crotch, squeezing him eagerly, digging into him with the palm of her hand, her blonde hair falling in a curtain in front of her, some landing in his mouth.

"Come on Baby. Make love to me," she cooed. Blaine felt sick. She kept trying, desperately, to get him hard, but her efforts were only making it worse. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath of the cool air.

"Relax," he told her. He somehow managed to flip them over so that she was underneath him. He kissed her once, his eyes still open, unbeknownst to her, and then reached down to remove his jeans.

Nothing in Blaine's body was excited about what was happening but Quinn was undulating underneath him, moaning softly although he was barely touching her, and he knew if he stopped this now there would be hell to pay for it. He got his jeans all the way off and slid his boxers down so they were around his ankles.

His flaccid cock was now exposed and Blaine wanted nothing more than to pull his pants back on and flee the scene. Quinn smiled at him reassuringly, seeming to notice his hesitance, and reached forward, grabbing him roughly and starting to stroke him. Blaine let her go at it for a few minutes before finally pulling out of her grasp, as he remained un-aroused.

"Here, let me," he muttered and turned away slightly, spitting on his hand and then pumping his dick, slowly at first, then more vigorously, his eyes closed and head tilted toward the ceiling.

He opened his eyes a couple minutes in to see Quinn watching him, an unreadable expression on her face. He couldn't tell if she was angry or not.

"Do you still want-"

"Stop being such a pussy and give it to me," she commanded him, pulling her panties off in one swift motion.

Blaine swallowed, trying to calm his spinning head and willing his erection to stay hard. He reached for the bedside table, fumbling with the condom she had provided. Quinn snatched it from him in exasperation, unrolling it over his length in a practiced manner and then removing her hands, signaling him with her eyes. He bent over Quinn, guiding himself into her, stopping as she winced until he heard her snap to go all the way. He continued pushing tentatively until he was buried inside her.

"Are you going to move?"

Blaine hadn't realized how long he had just been sitting there, positioned over her. His arms were starting to ache. He still felt sick. He pulled back slowly and then pushed back in. One thrust. He forced his body to do it again. Two thrusts. He was counting the seconds in his head. Three thrusts. His head was still swimming. Blaine shut his eyes, trying to concentrate harder, but it only made everything worse. Four thrusts. How much longer did he have to keep going? Because he wasn't sure he was going to be…able to…stay...hard…

He pulled out of Quinn dejectedly and rolled over onto his back, his limp cock staring him in the face mockingly.

"What the fuck Blaine?" Quinn asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

"I'm sorry, I just, don't feel…very well…"Blaine sat up and suddenly made a beeline for the bathroom. He reached it seconds before dumping the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Kurt had tiptoed outside, staining his bare feet on the wet grass. It wasn't too cold out here for a night in late September, but it still definitely wasn't somewhere he would choose to be. But that pathetic, whining piece of ass had begged him to walk him to his car, saying he didn't feel safe walking alone and it was Kurt's fault he had to walk so far anyway, Kurt being the one to make him park a few houses down as a safety precaution.

"You didn't want my dad to find out did you? Or someone waking up when they heard you start up you car at 2 AM?" Kurt had pointed out. But nevertheless, the least he could do, he supposed, was walk the sniveling bastard to his car. He wasn't even really sure why he had asked him to come over tonight. He usually never brought guys to the house when anybody was home, much less in the middle of a school night. But he had been lonely and pissed off tonight and he had needed to get out his anger some way.

Now Kurt had turned and was tiptoeing through the grass back around to his basement door, cursing as he went.

He almost didn't hear the soft roll of wheels on the sidewalk coming up behind him, or the sharp sound of someone scuffing their foot against the pavement or the hiss of his name, whistling through the nighttime air.

Almost.

He whirled around as soon as Blaine uttered his name, shocked to find the boy standing on the grass in the darkness, a couple yards away from him, looking slightly disheveled but handsome as ever.

"Blaine what are you doing here?"

"Who was that?" Blaine indicated toward the car that had pulled away a couple minutes ago.

Kurt sighed. "My friend. Not that it's any of your business."

"Your friend that you sleep with?" Blaine asked forwardly.

"Yeah fine," Kurt gave in. "My friend that I sleep with. Blaine listen, it's chilly out here and after what we discussed earlier, this is definitely not appropriate."

"Do you mess around with all of your friends?" Blaine asked walking toward Kurt with some determination. Kurt started walking backwards. There was a quiet confidence in Blaine's voice that Kurt wasn't used to hearing. He wondered if the boy was drunk.

"No, Blaine, I do not mess around with all my friends."

Blaine sighed. "Only the good-looking ones?"

"Blaine, stop it. Are you drunk?"

"Does it matter?"

"Uhm kind of," Kurt said nervously as Blaine continued advancing.

Blaine said nothing only continued walking until Kurt felt his back pressing into the rough shingling on the side of his house.

"Blaine, you should be at home."

"I don't understand Kurt."

"What?"

"I don't understand why you don't like me."

"I like you fine," Kurt protested, putting his hands on Blaine's shoulders unthinkingly.

"Do you?" Blaine's voice was rough.

"Yes," Kurt whispered.

"Prove it." Blaine's forehead was leaning against Kurt's, his curls soft against Kurt's skin. Kurt couldn't look away from his magnetic eyes, which were latched unwaveringly on Kurt's. He could smell Blaine's breath; he had definitely been drinking but for some reason, it didn't register clearly in Kurt's head. He felt Blaine's hand cupping the side of his face and then, in a moment, Blaine was kissing him.


	9. Possess Your Heart

**A/N So sorry for the delay my lovely readers. I had this half-written for a while but I couldn't finish it and the embarrassing reason is that I spent so much time watching _Family Guy _this week that I honestly couldn't write without hearing the voices of the characters in my head. It was pretty bad. Anyway, it's finally worn off, so I was able to finish this. I wanted to make it longer but I decided the next scene etc. should have its own chapter. You all are so sweet and I adore your reviews more than I can say. Seriously. Hint hint. Also, my next update WILL be sooner, I promise! xoxo **

* * *

_How I wish you could see the potential, the potential of you and me  
__It's like a book elegantly bound but in a language that you can't read  
__Just yet  
__You gotta spend some time, Love; you gotta spend some time with me  
__And I know that you'll find, Love: I will possess your heart  
_-I Will Possess Your Heart by Death Cab for Cutie_  
_

Blaine wasn't totally sure what he was doing but he somehow found himself pressing Kurt up against the side of his house and kissing him.

And Kurt was kissing back.

Blaine's mouth was frantic, and needy, and tasted sharp and tangy. But Kurt's lips had easily found a rhythm against his own and they seemed just as hungry for more. Kurt's arms were covered in goose bumps, ostensibly from the fall night air, but the way Blaine was trailing his fingertips up and down them suggested something different. Kurt didn't stop himself from reaching a hand up and twirling it in some of the curls that had escaped from Blaine's hair gel. They were as impossibly soft as he had imagined them to be. And Blaine's face, his _face. _His lips were soft and smooth but demanding and his chin was covered in just enough stubble to remind Kurt that this wasn't just another pretty boy he was kissing, but a man. Kurt's hand wandered over the broad, muscled expanse of Blaine's shoulders, trailing down the center of his back, all the way along his spine, until he found the dimpled place just above the swell of his ass. He rested his hand there, pulling Blaine into him possessively. Smooth, well-defined planes met slightly smaller, tight, angular ones as Blaine reached his arms underneath Kurt's and grasped his shoulders with his hands, pulling their bodies flush against one another. Kurt had an internal monologue telling him no, ordering him to stop, reminding him that this was _Blaine Anderson _he was kissing, and he knew better than to let this happen. But there was something different about kissing Blaine, something Kurt hadn't really expected. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he ignored the voice steadfastly until it had completely diminished altogether, Kurt's mind and senses drowning somewhere in the bliss that was kissing Blaine.

It wasn't long before Blaine felt Kurt hardening against his thigh. This only sent Blaine into even more of a frenzy. He grabbed Kurt with renewed force, a low tortured moan tearing from his throat as he sucked on Kurt's bottom lip. Blaine gently bit down on the smooth lip, applying slight pressure until he was satisfied with a depraved whimper from Kurt.

"See _this_," Blaine deliriously gestured to the two of them, "feels _right_."

"Mhmm," Kurt agreed lustfully, tugging Blaine's mouth back to his, torn between hoping Blaine wouldn't notice the throbbing erection between his legs and wondering if he was daring enough to reach over and find out if Blaine was feeling the same way.

"Seriously Kurt, I don't understand why you said we shouldn't be friends."

"You talk too much," Kurt said, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling that was rising in the back of his mind as he remembered just why he had promised to stay away from Blaine in the first place. He had completely broken his promise to himself. What an idiot.

But Kurt couldn't bear to stop. It all felt too right, too good. He had been crazy trying to deny himself this. Who was he kidding? He was Kurt Hummel. If he wanted someone, he got them, simple as that.

He was still painfully aware though he needed to take care of this situation, quickly, before it went too far. And Kurt knew exactly how to do that.

"Do you want to go downstairs to my room so I can fuck your ass all night long?"

Blaine pulled back. Here it was; this was it. Worked like a charm with guys like Blaine, scaring them off with wording before they even had a chance to figure out that this was actually, in the endgame, what they _wanted_. Kurt almost felt bad, tossing this bomb at Blaine like he was. But it was for his own good, both of their own goods. Blaine would figure out his sexuality soon enough without Kurt's help. For now, mission objective: Get Kurt Out. And that involved disentangling him from Blaine.

Blaine looked into his eyes for a long time and then slowly, leaned forward to kiss him again, reaching down to take Kurt's cold hand in his warmer one. He laced their fingers together and pressed Kurt further against the wall, kissing him passionately. Kurt couldn't help but melt.

"If that's what you want," Blaine breathed in answer to Kurt's question.

Kurt had a slight moment of panic. He hadn't pegged Blaine to last this long. But fine. Kurt would just up the intimidation.

"I do want it," he replied, making his voice low and husky. "I want to destroy your ass with my huge cock until my cum is dribbling out of your tight, wet little hole."

Blaine's eyes widened suddenly, but that only made it all the more obvious that his pupils were blown with desire.

"You can do whatever you want," he said dreamily.

"Oh my God!" Kurt was angry suddenly, shoving Blaine off of him with all of the force he could muster from his limber, kiss-weakened frame.

"What?" Blaine looked adorably confused, his curls messed and tangled from Kurt's fingers.

"What the fuck Blaine? I can do whatever I want? What the fuck's the matter with you! Have some goddamn self-respect!"

"I don't understand what your problem is," Blaine said quietly.

"My problem is that you are so pathetically desperate to find some answers in your life that you're totally willing to let people walk all over you in the process. You have a _girlfriend_ and you just told me I could _do whatever I wanted_ to your body. As if it meant nothing to you! As if this wasn't a big deal at all!"

"It's not," Blaine said, then seemed to reconsider what he was saying. "I mean, I don't mind. I don't care what you do."

"Don't insult me that way. Do you think I'm just going to sleep with you, because you're drunk and scared and don't know enough to say no? Because I _know_ you're scared Blaine. If you weren't, you'd be a fucking idiot. Don't you realize that, even though you told me I could do whatever I wanted, the fact that you're drunk and shaking automatically disqualifies you from making that decision. And if I, knowing these facts, proceeded to _fuck_ _you_, I might as well be raping you, Blaine. Fuck, I _would_ be raping you."

Blaine hadn't even noticed he was shaking until Kurt pointed it out. He was embarrassed but chocked it up to the cold. Kurt, on the other hand, was seething with rage.

"Go home Blaine! Before you make any other terrible decisions."

"I- I can't go home," Blaine replied, teeth chattering slightly as he now felt the full affects of the cold and the situation washing over him. He didn't feel drunk anymore. Just lonely. And suddenly, like he might cry.

"And why the fuck is that?" Kurt yelled, not seeming to care that he could wake his entire family, not to mention the rest of the neighborhood.

"I'm scared to," Blaine answered quietly, too spent to lie. It hit him then, all at once, the severity of everything that had happened that night. He had sort of slept with Quinn, but not entirely, hadn't even been man enough to maintain an erection while he was screwing her. He had gotten drunk and thrown up in her bathroom. He had left the house, not telling his parents that he was going. And now Blaine found himself here, at 2 AM, kissing a boy outside on his lawn. A boy whom he had agreed to _have sex_ with. A boy who was now yelling at him, making him, somehow, feel more rejected and terrible with a few simple words than any of the other things that had gone on that evening had.

Blaine saw Kurt's blue eyes softening in the moonlight and he reached forward, pulling Blaine into an unexpected but desperate hug. Blaine wondered at the safety he felt enveloped in the lithe, strong arms, wondered at Kurt's smell, at the warmth of his body compared to the chill of the night air. He felt tears threatening in his eyes and blinked furiously to hold them back. Blaine Anderson would not cry, especially not onto the shoulder of a gay boy.

"You have to," Kurt whispered over his shoulder and it took Blaine a moment before he realized what Kurt was referring to.

"If my mom finds out…"Blaine started and then trailed off for fear that if he continued his sentence, he might not be able to stop the tears.

"You're stronger than that Blaine. You've got to be stronger than that." Blaine felt a warm set up lips press ever-so-briefly against his forehead and then Kurt was releasing him.

"It's okay Blaine," Kurt said, backing away slowly. "Just go home."

Blaine sighed, knowing he had no other option.

"Kurt!" he whispered when Kurt's figure had grown small and shadowed in the darkness. "Thank you."

He thought he saw the other boy nodding before he disappeared.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Friday morning came with a downpour outside and when Kurt saw it he moaned and rolled over, pulling his pillow over his head as he had the day before. School did not appeal to him at all today.

His father came pounding downstairs a few minutes after Kurt had hit the snooze button.

"Kurt!"

"What Dad?" Kurt groaned in annoyance.

"Just wanted to see how you were feeling this morning."

"Oh," Kurt rolled over so that his face was visible, allowing his slender body to sink into the pillows in a sickly, wan way. "I don't know. I'm not so hot."

Burt's lower lip extended lightly in suspicion. He reached out a hand and put it to Kurt's forehead as Carole had done the other day. His hand nearly masked half of Kurt's face, it was so large. And hot. Kurt frowned. His dad's hands were hot.

"You feel normal temperature to me," Burt said with a pointed look at his son. "You better get up if you want time to do your whole moisturizing routine, cause you're going to school today."

"Dad, I really don't feel well."

"What is it Kurt? Stomach bug? Sore throat? Something that aches all over but you can't quite put a name to what it is?"

"Yeah," Kurt nodded eagerly. "The last one."

"You must think I'm stupid Kid." Burt sighed and sat down on the edge of his son's bed. "Now if you were lying to me about there being bullies at school, I'll give you one more chance to admit it to me now. It won't get you out of going to school but at least we can try to work something out."

_No Dad. Not bullies. Quite the opposite actually. _Kurt sighed and shook his head. "There aren't any bullies. I wasn't lying."

"Good. Do you remember what they taught you in those self-defense classes you took last summer?"

"Of course."

"Alright. Then I see no reason why you're so reluctant to go." Burt held up a hand to assuage Kurt's protests. "Finn can drive you in his car cause of the rain. Your bike is safe in the garage." Kurt groaned again. He didn't relish the idea of driving to school with Finn. His stepbrother wasn't exactly the smartest driver on the road.

"It's that or get wet. Now quit complaining and hop in the shower. Breakfast will be waiting."

Burt left and Kurt sunk even further into his bed, covering himself completely with the comforter. Today was going to be absolutely miserable, he could feel it.

x-x-x-x-x-x

By the time Kurt and Finn had arrived at school, the sky, which had previously been only drizzling and spitting down rain, was engaged in a full-on war with thunder clouds and slices of lightning. Kurt hated today. He had decided. The weather was atrocious. He peeled off his coat and checked his hair in the mirror inside his locker. It was ruffled. Definitely not the perfect arrangement he had worked so hard on earlier. Kurt ran a hand through his hair, pushing into a further disarray. If he had to look like a mess at least he would work it.

He smoothed his hands over his simple but put-together look. The cream-colored long-sleeved shirt with three large brown buttons at the top was perfectly complimented by his charcoal vest which he left casually unbuttoned. He hadn't worn motorcycle boots today but instead simple lace-up suede boots. And of course, his signature tight skinny jeans. Damn he looked good if he did say so himself.

He looked up suddenly at the sound of a voice laughing coming down the hall toward him. Blaine was laughing and walking with a friend, an slim-built but muscular Asian guy whom Kurt had seen around before. Kurt quickly looked away but Blaine came strolling right up to him, smiling widely.

"So how bout that weather Bro!" He clapped Kurt on the shoulder heavily and Kurt looked up. Blaine's hazel eyes were filled with mirth. He must have skateboarded to school; he looked positively drenched. His hair, which Kurt was sure he'd spent a lot of time and hair gel on, was now fairly soaked, water dripping from the ends of his curls. There was rain still clinging to his eyelashes, some trailing down his cheeks like tears. He had a thin jacket on that was not zipped. Underneath, Kurt could see a V-neck that had become wet and see-through, plastered to Blaine's chest. Blaine followed Kurt's glance and surveyed his outfit.

"I'm a mess aren't I?" He laughed again sticking out his tongue to lick a rain drop that had rolled onto his lips.

"Yeah," Kurt said with a halfhearted smile, unable to remain cold towards the scene in front of him.

"Alright well," Blaine looked around him as the traffic flow began increasing. "I'm gonna head to class. See you in English!" He punched Kurt lightly in the shoulder once more and strolled off with that ridiculous grin still splitting his face in half. Kurt rubbed his shoulder wondering what on earth Blaine's mom had slipped into his frosted wheat thins. The kid was acting like nothing at all had happened last night; like he _hadn't _showed up to Kurt's at 2 AM, drunk and eager for a heavy make out session. It just didn't make any sense.

He headed to class warily, surveying the student body around him, wondering if he was dreaming or if this was reality. He'd had popular boys _ignore_ him the day after a hookup before, or jump him in the parking lot maybe, or corner him in the hallway for more, but never had he gotten a reaction like Blaine's. It was entirely unsettling.

He kept walking, not even noticing the Latina cheerleader until she had bumped directly into him and was standing under his nose.

"So are you coming?"

"Satan. Good morning to you too."

Santana just huffed and grabbed Kurt's arm, pulling him into stride next to her. "Puck's friend's party is tonight. I texted you about it."

"Oh right. Sorry. I was sick yesterday."

"Uh huh. Listen Hummel no one is forcing you to go but by the looks of it you could definitely use a night to blow off some steam." She surveyed him critically.

"Yeah," Kurt replied non-committally. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Look at yourself Ladyface. You look like death warmed over. I haven't seen you this off your game in months. When's the last time you got laid?"

Kurt opened his mouth to answer but Santana spoke again. "Actually never mind, don't answer that. I still think you need to go tonight. Come on. It'll be a fun crowd."

"Wait did you say Puck's friend was throwing it?"

"Yeah. Some kid from a couple towns over."

"So who from Lima will be there?"

"Hardly anyone I think. Just the normal bleachers crowd," Santana answered referring to the group of stoners that met in the mornings.

"Alright. I'm in."

And with that, Kurt Hummel had landed on the perfect way to distract himself for the evening.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Kurt didn't, to his great relief, have any more run ins with Blaine during the school day. He saw him at lunch, sitting at his usual table with several of the football players and cheerleaders. He was laughing at something one of them had said. Kurt noted that Quinn sat a couple seats down from Blaine, talking with her fellow Cheerios. That was rather odd. He wondered if Blaine had told his girlfriend about the happenings of last night but decided that no, even Blaine wasn't that stupid. Still. Maybe Kurt should give him a talk, let him know the rules when it came to indiscretions with him. Blaine obviously didn't have any experience with this sort of thing. Kurt might need to talk to him, just as a precaution.

But he really didn't _want_ to talk to Blaine. He didn't want to be within ten feet of Blaine. He couldn't stop his sex-crazed mind from drifting back to the way Blaine had kissed him last night, so desperately, not like a drunk, sloppy frat boy but like he had really _wanted_ it, just as much as Kurt had. God, and his body. His body had been intoxicating. Kurt couldn't help from closing his eyes at the memory of it.

He was startled by a voice sounding loudly in his ear.

"Daydreaming about me again Hummel?"

"God. Do you enjoy scaring the shit out of people or is that just a clever talent you have?"

Puck furrowed his brow for a moment before answering. "Both."

"Mhmm," Kurt nodded before turning back to his lunch.

"Man what's with you today? Santana said you were acting off."

"Maybe everybody should mind their own business," Kurt snapped.

"Jeez Dude. You're meaner than Sue when she gets her period during a juice cleanse."

"That's disgusting." Kurt wrinkled his nose delicately as his hands absentmindedly played with the chains around his neck. His gaze was still fixed on Blaine. Puck followed where he was staring.

"Ah got a crush on Puppy-Dog Eyes over there?"

"Fuck no!" Kurt replied too quickly. "Not my type at all," he added, trying to sound casual.

"Don't jump out of your skin." Puck looked at him in concern. "You really are off. You're coming tonight, right?"

"Sure. Yeah. I'll be there."

"Cool. Now you might wanna put that drool back in your mouth before Puppy Dog's girlfriend notices and kicks the shit out of you."

"I'm not drooling!" Kurt called but Puck had already exited the cafeteria. Kurt picked up the picked at remains of his lunch and dumped them in the trash. He had no appetite anyway.

x-x-x-x-x-x

It wasn't till English class that Kurt really saw Blaine. He wasn't sitting next to him this class because Blaine's normal table mate had returned, but rather, was stuck at the empty table behind Blaine, at the very back of the classroom. Blaine turned around a couple of times to hand papers back to Kurt, flashing him the same winning smile from before every time. Never once acting like _anything_ beyond easy friendship existed between them.

Kurt was completely and wholly bewildered. And strangely annoyed.

He knew he had shoved off Blaine's advances and he should be grateful that the other boy was seeming to finally get the hint and was acting like nothing had ever happened.

But still. It _had_ happened. They ought to at least acknowledge it. That way they could discuss the situation, diffuse any sexual tension remaining between them and finally move on. Kurt didn't understand Blaine's game and it was pissing it off.

Blaine didn't speak to him at all during English, just kept peppering him with those annoying smiles. Kurt didn't return any of the smiles but Blaine stayed undeterred. Kurt finally got fed up enough that he left English altogether and stalked out to the parking lot to wait for Finn. It was still raining outside and he was getting soaked but it was a hell of a lot better than sitting in that class with Blaine and his idiotic grinning.


	10. Time And Time Again

**A/N Sorry as always for not having this up earlier, but this is my longest chapter so far, so take some solace in that! I really wanted to get it up tonight so there are probably a lot of typos etc. but I'm going to have to edit them out tomorrow. For now, it's 4:30 AM and I have to be up in 3 1/2 hours. Anyway. Please please enjoy! Warning: there IS smut :) And also, two words for you guys: body. shots.**

**Besides a bit of seriousness in the beginning and a tender Carole/Kurt moment, there is really just a lot of sexual tension in this chapter. Sorry it's not more meaty plot wise. **

**But enjoy and review and favorite and follow and everything else. Just please, something! Just so I know you're out there and you want me to keep writing! Otherwise I lose all inspiration!**

**To those who have reviewed, thank you bunches. I love you ALL! xoxo**

**Also, the song used IN the chapter, during the party, is Time and Time Again by Chronic Future**

* * *

_I've been writing you a story  
The headline reads, 'We're Meant to Be'  
__See, I'm not one to write such fiction  
__So let me be a reality and show you what you mean to me  
__I'm thinking you and I  
__Should roll the dice, get lost in love forever  
__Cause I'm feeling intoxicated  
__I wanna taste the air that you've been breathing  
__So haunt me and feel me  
__I've been waiting for your touch  
__-_Your Touch by Blake Lewis_  
_

Kurt decided to go straight home when he got outside, despite the fact that it would mean he had to walk in the rain. He didn't feel up to waiting for Finn. He would send him a text saying he had gotten a ride from a friend and just leave now. What he really wanted to do was walk to the lake, but it was still raining pretty heavily. He would just walk home and take a bath and then maybe work on his music some. Take his mind off of things until the party tonight, when he could really forget.

Much to his surprise, there was a car in the driveway when Kurt finally arrived, soaked through and looking rather like a drowned animal. His coif had been destroyed completely. But who was there to impress anyway? He decided to go into the house, because the car in the drive belonged to Carole and he could probably just convince her that he had been feeling ill again. She was fairly easy to fool.

He walked into the house and shook himself off unceremoniously, like a dog after a bath. Carole heard the thudding as he took his boots off and put them next to the door.

"Hello?" she called, a hint of concern in her voice at the unknown intruder.

"It's okay Carole, it's just me!" Kurt responded. He threw his jacket over the back of the couch and made to head to his room.

"Kurt?" Carole entered the room before he could make his escape, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "You're home early."

"I didn't feel well." Carole didn't buy it, Kurt could tell from the expression on her face but Kurt gave her a defiant look that clearly said, _Just try and challenge me and see what happens. You're not my real mother._

"Okay Honey," she said cautiously. "Actually, I'm glad you're home. I could use your help with something.

"What do you need?" Kurt bit his tongue. He knew he sounded like a spoiled little bitch, and well, he was. He resented Carole, that had never been a secret to anyone. But Carole was still always so kind to him. It wasn't her fault that she had fallen in love with a man who had a son who wasn't interested in having a new mother, or having his father try to replace his old one. She really was innocent in all this. But it didn't make Kurt despise her much less.

Carole winced visibly at his tone but straightened her shoulders, braving out the high schooler's attitude despite everything. "I'm baking in the kitchen. Pot roast and biscuits, with pie for dessert."

"I won't be home for dinner." Kurt shrugged his shoulders and turned to go.

"It's for your father." Kurt stopped and turned around. Carole was looking at him with a slightly anxious expression on her face. "Our one year anniversary is this weekend but I have to work. So I thought I'd surprise him and we could celebrate it today. I just- I want everything to be perfect," she finished rather nervously. Kurt felt his heart soften a little. In moments like this, it was obvious how much his stepmother loved his father. And she was nervous about their anniversary. It was sort of sweet.

Kurt bristled again and turned to Carole, "And you need my help because…?"

"Well since it's our first anniversary, I want it to be really special. I have the cooking under control, but I just, I want to be beautiful for your father. And I don't know what to wear. I'm sort of a mess," she admitted sheepishly, biting her lip after she uttered the words.

Kurt said nothing for a while and Carole began to fidget a little bit. "I'm sorry, Kurt, you know what? This is probably too weird for you. I mean, I just thought maybe, since you're into fashion and all…but forget I asked. I'll figure something out." She headed back to the kitchen.

"Carole, wait." Kurt interjected, against his better judgment. "I think I can probably help you."

x-x-x-x-x-x

Carole had turned the temperature in the crock pot down so the roast could simmer and left the biscuits on a pan that she would pop in the oven after the pie was finished, once Burt was closer to getting home. She was now seated on the bench in front of her vanity in her and Burt's bedroom, with Kurt standing in front of her, painting her face with makeup.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate you doing this Kurt. I really want to look nice for your dad. It means a lot to me, your help."

"Whatever," Kurt said casually.

"No I seriously mean it. I know this isn't easy for you to do."

Kurt bit his lip a little and stood back to admire his masterpiece, ignoring what Carole had said. She looked lovely, that much was true. Kurt was proud of himself. He had swept Carole's dark brown hair up into a soft, stylish up-do with strands framing the sides of her face. He had dusted her eyelids with a deep brown shimmer, highlighted with a light rose color, and added mascara and lined her eyes just the right amount to create a sexy, smoky, but age-appropriate look. She had a light amount of blush on, giving a sweet flush to her cheeks, and Kurt had just finished applying lipstick in a deep pink-brown shade. Yes, she did look lovely.

"Here, tell me what you think." Kurt stepped out of the way and let Carole take in her finished appearance in the mirror. He heard his stepmother's breath catch in her throat.

"Oh my. Kurt. I look…wow…I don't even look like me." She chuckled lightly, a hand flying to her hair. "Oh my goodness, I look…I'm…"

"Beautiful," Kurt supplied, swiftly grabbing another bobby pin to secure a section of her hair that looked a bit loose. He was tearing up a little, but he wouldn't stand for Carole to see that.

"Kurt." Carole grabbed his arm. "Thank you. You don't know what this means to me."

"Sure," Kurt said, looking up to see Carole's eyes glistening slightly with the promise of tears too.

"Hey now don't cry," he said, pulling the older woman into a gentle hug. "You'll ruin all my hard work."

"I'm just- I know it's silly, but I'm really touched. Kurt, I know you don't really love me. Honestly, I'm not even sure if you _like_ me most of the time. And I don't blame you for it, really. But I want you to know, I'm not trying to replace anything. I don't want to be your new mother. No one could ever take the place of Elizabeth. She was a wonderful woman. That much is obvious from one look at you."

Kurt bit his lip harder, pissed at himself, as a tear started welling in the corner of his eye and then quietly fell, leaving a big wet trail down his cheek.

"Oh Kurt sweetheart, you can't know how much it meant to me when your dad asked me and Finn to become a part of your family. That's all I've ever wanted to do. I've wanted to be a part of your family. To be there and support you and show you love. To try and take care of you, for your mom, because she can't. If I died, I hope there'd be a lady who would take the time to take care of Finn and be a part of his life. That's all that I want."

Kurt hugged Carole again, if only to make it so that she wouldn't see him crying. "I do like you Carole. I like having someone to take care of me," He admitted in a very small, choked voice. He felt Carole's grip around him tighten.

"You're a wonderful boy Kurt. You've dealt with some pretty major hardships for such a young person and it's only made you stronger. You have so many amazing things ahead of you. And I'm so proud that I've gotten to know you. I just want to be a part of your life, if you'll let me."

Kurt inhaled shakily. "I want you to," he said and the sobs were obvious now. "I want you to be a part of my life. I just can't. I don't know how. I want to, I just, I just…can't." He finished tremblingly and let go of Carole, wiping the foolish tears from his eyes brusquely.

"Alright. So you should wear the dress I laid out for you on the bed and the pearls with the pearl drop earrings. My dad will love it." His tone was all business now, none of its former softness there.

"Thank you," Carole said quietly, nodding.

"Alright then. I've got to get ready. I'm going out." He stalked to the door but something stopped him.

"And Carole?" he asked.

"Yes Kurt?" she responded tentatively.

"Thank you. For taking care of my dad. I do appreciate it."

Carole nodded and Kurt nodded in response. Neither of them needed to say anything else. Kurt left.

x-x-x-x-x-x

The party was in full swing when Kurt arrived. The kid's house was huge, Kurt noted as he got off his bike. Must be some pretty little rich boy with parents who went on vacation more than they talked to their son, but allowed him to spend their money and throw parties to compensate. The rain had stopped, leaving the evening with that pleasant, cool, washed-over feeling, the smell of fall lingering heavily in the air. Kurt breathed deep and readied himself for a night of forgetting.

When he walked in, he was overwhelmed for a moment by all of the people everywhere, sprawled on couches, making out in stairwells, doing keg stands in the kitchen, everyone gyrating to the pulsating music.

Kurt caught a few lyrics from the song, thinking it sounded vaguely familiar.

_Inspiring, shining, rising, and when you're in my way  
I'm not dividing me from you cause we're working together  
__Perfect in its splendor like the currents of the weather  
__The splinter in my center hindering all of my pleasure  
__Is me manifested as you in this endeavor__  
_

The lyrics ran through his head surreally as he wandered around in a haze, searching for a face he recognized.

_Once responsibility is taken I can render  
__Experience to be however I want to remember__  
_

"Hummmmmel!" Someone called to him excitedly. Kurt turned and saw Puck and Santana along with a few others, lounging on large couch pillows in a sort of sectioned off corner of the living room. They were passing around a giant glass bong and all looked well on their way to stoned out of their minds. It had been a long time since Kurt had gotten high. Tonight might just be the night to get reacquainted with the drug.

"Hey," he said casually, making his way over to cozy little corner where they were stretched out.

"Here," Santana said, passing him a red Solo cup. She was entwined with Brittany, her cheerleader girlfriend. Santana didn't allow Brittany to smoke, since she was too sweet and naïve to understand what the consequences could be. Besides, Brittany's mind already worked much differently than most people's, and Santana didn't want to risk losing any more of her brain cells. "This was mine but you can have it."

Kurt sniffed delicately. "What's in this?" he asked suspiciously.

Santana shrugged. "Rum and coke. But I'm all done for the night. You know I don't like to mix my alcohol and weed."

"Right," Kurt nodded, gratefully taking the cup from Santana's hand and downing it all in one gulp.

"Woah, slow down there Hummel," Puck said with a laugh. Santana looked at him and grinned. "See I told you the kid could use a chance to blow off some steam."

"Could I ever," Kurt agreed, looking around to see where he could procure more of this nectar of the gods.

"Hey! He's back! Wooo!" Brittany cheered and stood up, nearly falling over in her excitement and intoxication. Kurt leapt up to steady her just as Brittany leaned in to give the newcomer a huge hug, and Kurt was startled to find himself looking into a pair of golden-amber eyes over Brittany's shoulder.

_Time and time again we fall into the depths of who we are  
But you can't keep running away from what you're trying to find_

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"Partying." Blaine grinned casually, that same stupid grin he had been flashing Kurt all day and Kurt felt fury rising in his chest as his gaze lingered longer than necessary on Blaine's lips and he felt the blood stirring in the pit of his stomach.

"Isn't it great Kurt?" Santana asked with glee. It was obvious she was inebriated due to the sheer happiness and excitement in her voice. The girl normally prided herself on being a bitchy badass Latina with a penchant for tearing down losers with her cleverly crafted insults. "Blaine is here too! Hanging with us! It's a parrrrrtay!"

"Alright maybe you should sit down," Blaine said, easing both of the cheerleaders back down onto the cushions they had been sitting on earlier. He took a seat next to the two on another cushion, sitting with his legs crossed pretzel-style, looking comfortable and at home. Kurt stared at him in angry shock. He turned away.

"Where ya going Hummel?" Puck called after him.

"To get another drink!" Kurt waved him off as he strode into the kitchen.

The kitchen was a mess with several boys of the douche bag persuasion still ensconced in their keg stand, while some of the looser girls were doing shots off each other's stomachs on the table. Kurt surveyed the room quickly, searching for the liquor. He discovered several glass bottles on the counter. Ah. Tequila. There he was, his old friend. Kurt opened the bottle and poured some in a glass. The clear liquid burned his throat as he swallowed it but he didn't much care. This was about losing himself, not enjoying what he was drinking.

_Put yourself through the scariest of scenarios  
__Enter experiences your normally wouldn't dare to go  
__It's all for the character and the arrogant afterglow  
__Of knowing its appearance according to your patterns of growth  
__And what your parents handed down to you to handle__  
_

Kurt downed another glass before he grabbed the bottle and tucked it under one arm as he headed back to the living room, knowing he would need more than just the two glasses if he was going to put up with Blaine the whole night.

When he returned to the living room, his friends were still sequestered in the corner. He sat down in the only empty seat, next to Blaine, but positioning his body as far from him as possible.

"Ooh shots!" Puck cried in excitement, seeing the bottle under Kurt's arm. "Santana get some shot glasses!" Kurt sighed, knowing that it was too late to stop them now.

Santana returned with several shot glasses in hand as well as some lime slices and a shalt shaker. She grinned, holding up her loot. "What's the use in doing shots unless you do them properly?"

"Yay!" Britt clapped in excitement, tugging off her tank top instantly.

"Hey woah, we're not taking body shots!" Kurt exclaimed, realizing the girls' plan.

"Why not?" Santana asked deviously, a glint in her eye as she looked at Kurt.

"I don't want to," Kurt said firmly.

"Well I, for one, would like to do a shot off my sexy girlfriend if you don't mind."

"Whatever, I'm not doing it."

"Hold up, hold up!" Puck said as Santana began licking a wide stripe down the center of Brittany's stomach. She sprinkled the stripe with salt and began pouring the tequila in a shot glass.

"If they're doing body shots, we are _all _doing body shots." Puck demanded.

"Puck," Kurt hissed between his teeth.

"Dude, com'on," Puck whispered. "See that girl over there?" he nodded towards a slightly larger, feisty looking redheaded girl who Kurt recognized from a few of the parties over the summer. "That's Lauren. I've been trying to get in her pants for basically forever. We do this, she might realize what she's been missing. But she's not gonna do it if everybody doesn't do it. Please Man. Don't fuck this up for me."

Kurt took a deep breath and sighed. He couldn't say no to Puck anymore, now could he exactly? "Fine," he growled.

"Yay!" Brittany squealed from her lying down position. Santana grinned that evil smile again and placed a lime wedge between Brittany's teeth.

_Make sure you carry torches when they're putting out your candles  
Prediction can be unkind but unwind them still  
__Don't erase the part of you that's responsible for your will__  
_

Kurt shook his head and watched as Santana straddled her girlfriend and licked up the stripe of salt, then began pouring the shot into Brittany's navel, where she proceeded to lap it up eagerly like a dog. She moved up then and bit the lime that was resting between Brit's teeth, squeezing the sour juices out of it and pulling away with the lime now in her mouth. She removed it with her hand and smiled triumphantly before leaning over to give her girlfriend a long, arduous kiss on the mouth with plenty of tongue, much to the excitement of those watching who cheered and whooped them on.

Kurt found himself watching Blaine, who was laughing and clapping along with everyone else, looking as though he were purely enjoying himself.

_Time and time again we fall into the depths of who we are  
__But you can't keep running away from what you're trying to find__  
_

Ugh. Blaine was probably turned on right now. How could he sit here, right next to Kurt, acting all straight, clearly getting excited by the sight of the two girls in front of him, when he had been all over Kurt last night? It was disgusting.

"Blaine," Kurt hissed as Santana shimmied out of her shirt.

"Yeah?" Blaine replied distractedly, not turning his eyes away from the events unfolding before him to answer.

Kurt was annoyed. "_Why _are you _here?"_

"I told you," Blaine said, looking at Kurt in surprise. "I'm here to party." He smiled again and turned back to cheer on Brittany who was now licking down Santana's stomach.

"Could you stop drooling over the lesbian lovefest over there and pay attention to me for a moment?" Kurt snapped angrily. "If you don't stop staring you're gonna cum in your pants."

"Jealous for my attention huh?" Blaine asked with a raised eyebrow, his eyes now focused back on Kurt.

"Not in the slightest," huffed Kurt. "I just want to know why you're here. These people aren't your friends. Are you _stalking_ me?"

Blaine looked a little bit pissed off now. "On the contrary, Kurt, these people _are _my friends. I happen to be friends with the kid throwing this party. We went to school together before I transferred to McKinley. I had no idea Puck and this crowd would be here and I _definitely_ never imagined you'd be here. Not everything revolves around you, Kurt."

Kurt felt a little bit stung by Blaine's comment but he didn't dwell on why. "Then why the fuck would you want to come here?" he retaliated. "You're the king of McKinley. Why would you go to a party that none of your subjects were at? Especially your little girlfriend."

"God, can't I even go to a party without getting the third degree?" Blaine raised an eyebrow at Kurt as everyone erupted into cheers again, Brittany having finished doing the shot off Santana with another provocative display.

As Puck and Lauren began engaging in the activity, Kurt felt Blaine's eyes boring hard into the side of his head.

"What?" he snapped.

"What indeed?" Blaine replied. "I don't get what your deal is Hummel."

"I really just want _you _to leave me alone. If we could make that happen then I'd just be dandy."

"That wasn't really the impression I got last night."

Kurt froze. This was the first time Blaine had made any reference to the events of the previous night, the first time he had even alluded to the fact that he remembered those events _existed_.

"You were drunk," Kurt said awkwardly with a quick shrug.

"My point exactly. You weren't." Blaine whispered in his ear and Kurt felt chills travelling down his spine.

_Well I've seen you and those things you do  
__And the way you hide the shadows can't be good for you  
__Your dark defines your light__  
_

Kurt swallowed and tried hard to focus on Lauren, who had pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose determinedly with a fierce expression on her face and was now lapping the tequila out of Puck's belly button with the voracity of a jungle cat attacking its prey. Puck appeared to be loving it. It was horrifying. But even that thoroughly distracting sight couldn't take Kurt's mind off the situation at hand.

"Don't pretend with me Kurt," Blaine whispered over the cheering of everyone else. "Don't pretend you don't want me. I'm a pretty smart guy. It's actually kind of insulting."

Kurt gulped again, trying to focus on the other couples in the circle who were doing their body shots off each other now. Blaine's words seemed to have gone straight to his crotch and his heart was beating wildly. He already felt himself growing half hard inside his leather pants. This was not how he wanted this night to go.

_There's some utterly damaged particles to deal with  
__And if I stutter I'm sorry, but it's hard to feel swift  
__When stuck in my stomach is a cannon ball anchor lift  
__I've been pushing it down, pretending it doesn't exist__  
_

Blaine was still staring at him, but he refused to reply to the boy's statement. And then suddenly, people were yelling at him.

"Your turn Hummel!"

"Come on Ladyface!"

"Shots shots shots shots!"

Kurt looked up at them startled. "I don't have a partner."

"Yes you do!" Brittany skipped over, grabbing Blaine by the head and jerking it to face Kurt. "Blaine can be your partner! Kurt and Blaine! It's perfect!" Kurt looked around and saw the rest of the group smiling at him knowingly. Oh my God. Did they know what had happened between him and Blaine? Was this some sort of trick?

He looked at Blaine who was rather expressionless for once. Santana approached once she saw the boys hesitating.

"Look it boys, I know Blaine's not gay, but don't make this into a bigger deal than it has to be. Quinn will never know," she reassured Blaine. "Now pussy up and let's do this. Rules is rules!" She added with a wink and returned to her place tangled in Brittany's arms.

The rest of the group was still urging them on and Kurt felt his face turning red but he didn't see what other option he had. Shying away from this would be social suicide. Plus Kurt Hummel did not back down from a challenge. He eyed Blaine to see how the curly-haired boy was reacting.

Blaine already had his shirt off, a glint in his eyes as he locked gazes with Kurt. He watched him tauntingly, his eyes daring Kurt to make a move, to take the challenge.

_Well this is what happens when you're pissed about being pissed  
__You dig yourself so deep, you resist just to resist  
__And there's no way to get back the experiences you missed  
__So start right now today and risk furiousness for bliss__  
_

Kurt took in Blaine's naked upper half lying before him. His chest was broad, a slight dusting of black curls covering the top of it. Well defined pecs and abs, all the same delectable olive color as the rest of his skin. A patch of dark hair gathering at the bottom of his stomach and trailing down to slip beneath the top of his boxers. Blaine was right, Kurt _wanted_ him. He took a deep breath.

"Alright, lie back Anderson," he ordered. Everyone around them erupted into cheers as the music continued pounding and Kurt somewhat shakily poured himself a shot of tequila.

_Time and time again you fall into the depths of who you are  
But you can't keep running away from what you're trying to find_

Kurt leaned down, the slight buzz of the alcohol he had drank earlier starting to hit him now and endowing him with some courage. He pressed his tongue against the slight rivet in the center of Blaine's stomach, licking down the hot, smooth skin until he got close to Blaine's navel. His flesh was hard and soft at the same time and tasted wonderful. Kurt wanted to keep exploring Blaine's body with his tongue but he stopped himself, pulling back and beginning to sprinkle salt over the wet trail, oblivious to the whooping and hollering going on around him.

Blaine lay very still beneath him, his eyes fluttering open and closed slightly in…_pleasure?_ Kurt could hope but decided it wasn't worth it. He leaned down and positioned his tongue near Blaine's belly button, Blaine's happy trail now brushing his chin tantalizingly. Oh the happy, happy places that trail would lead if only…Kurt shook himself out of it and began to pour. The tequila came out fast and Kurt had all he could do to lap it all up. He felt disgusting, so trashy, licking tequila out of a guy's belly button, and yet he felt incredibly turned on. He could feel Blaine's body trembling slightly beneath his hands which he had placed on Blaine's sides to steady himself.

He finished the tequila and straightened himself for the last act. Somewhat haltingly, but ever aware of the loud encouragement coming from his friends, Kurt bent over and pressed his mouth over Blaine's.

Their lips were painfully close but not close enough. Kurt felt the bitter, firm flesh of the lime in his mouth, his tongue overwhelmed by the sour taste, salivary glands working overtime to flood his mouth. He bit into the slice and sucked, accidentally meeting Blaine's eyes in the process. The boy looked sexy and submissive, his mouth clamped around the lime rind firmly but helplessly, his pupils completely dark and blown with lust. Kurt felt his stomach clench and his cock harden slightly further. Oh God, this was too much.

He pulled away quickly, but he was already sweaty and flushed and well on the way to a full-blown erection. He plucked the lime from his mouth and tossed it on the floor.

"I've got to get some air," he muttered.

"But Blaine has to do a shot off you!" Santana protested.

"Later," Kurt told her, standing up and pushing his way through the throngs of people. He was on fire. He couldn't ever remember being this turned on when he hadn't been actually having sex. The room was spinning with the alcohol and his arousal. He had to get out of here.

He made it to the back door, located in the kitchen and stepped out to the porch. There was a giant swimming pool out back, unsurprisingly, though it was empty of partygoers. The cool water was tempting. Kurt leaned against the house momentarily, deliberating. What the hell. He stripped quickly down to his briefs and jumped.

_Kurt! Kurt!_

The noise was muffled beneath water, but Kurt could still clearly hear someone calling his name. He wondered if the voice would go away if he just held his breath and didn't resurface.

_Kurt! I know you're down there! You're going to run out of air eventually! _The garbled voice was yelling at him.

Kurt sighed. The voice was right, he couldn't hold his breath forever. He swam to the top of the pool, sputtering angrily.

"Can't you just leave me alone for five seconds?"

As expected, Blaine was standing there, bathed in moonlight, his shirt still discarded from their earlier adventures. Oh God, he looked positively sculpted in this lighting.

"You don't want me to leave you alone. And if I'm honest," Blaine bent over, slipping his shoes and socks off. "I don't want you to leave me alone either.

"Blaine, stop. Blaine, what are you doing?"

"You won't talk to me," Blaine explained, walking toward the pool.

"That's not true. You haven't even tried!" Kurt protested.

"You want to pretend nothing ever happened." Blaine stated, ignoring Kurt.

"No! I mean well, yes, because I'm _smart_. I'm just trying to protect both of us. But I wanted to talk about it first. You were the one pretending."

"I don't want to pretend," Blaine said huskily, unbuttoning his jeans. He bent over and in one quick motion, he was down to his boxers.

"Blaine. What are you doing?"

"You won't come to me, so I'm coming to you."

Blaine dove into the water.

He resurfaced in a moment, shaking the water from his hair, the curls now easily visible, dripping though they were. Kurt had made his way to the shallow end, trying to get as far from Blaine as possible, but Blaine made short work of the length of the pool.

"Kurt. Stop playing these games with me."

"I'm not the one playing games," Kurt choked out. "I'm not the one with the _girlfriend_."

"I'm not perfect," Blaine said harshly, the hurt coming through in his voice. "I don't have this all figured out. But I know that we want each other and for once in my goddamned life, I'm not going to try and fight what feels right. I _need _to see what this is," He said, gesturing to the two of them.

He was right in front of Kurt then, their bodies ghosting against each other in a teasing manner, just barely separated.

"I need you," Blaine finished, before leaning in and closing his mouth over Kurt's. Every nerve in Kurt's body went on red alert as he felt the bare, dripping skin of Blaine's chest pressed against his own chest, felt their lips molding against each other, pushing against each other and then with each other, never once repeating the same pattern or even giving the same sensations.

Kurt groaned roughly and fisted his hand in Blaine's wet curls, pulling him closer against his body. Blaine responded by tugging on Kurt's bottom lip with his teeth, and then pressing his tongue against the seam of Kurt's lips. His kiss was desperate, his tongue eager. He licked across the seam a few times and then slipped into Kurt's mouth, finding Kurt's own tongue. Kurt gasped as Blaine took his tongue into his mouth and sucked on it hard.

"You're drunk," Kurt panted against Blaine's lips.

"Mm not drunk," Blaine mumbled, sliding his hand from Kurt's neck down his back, pressing against the rippling muscles there, and sinking lower until he reached the waistband of Kurt's briefs. He slipped his hand beneath, squeezing Kurt's ass cheek tightly in his broad hand. Kurt moaned in pleasure.

"How…are…you not…drunk?" He questioned pantingly. "You're at…a party…"

"I didn't drink tonight," Blaine whispered, completely in control of his voice. "I've got my mom's car; I'm driving home."

Kurt had the wherewithal to smile against the workings of Blaine's mouth and murmur, "So you're taking advantage of me in my inebriated state then."

"Something like that," Blaine said with a grin in his voice as he let his finger drift down Kurt's ass crack dangerously low, before sliding it back up again. Kurt bucked against Blaine's hips, more excited than he should've been to feel Blaine's hard-on through his boxers pressing into Kurt's leg.

"You're turned on," He whispered.

"You're doing that thing again, where you talk too much," Blaine noted before moving lips to kiss across Kurt's jaw and all the way down his neck until he found his throat, where he began to suck. Kurt was softly whining, his own erection protesting against his briefs impatiently.

Blaine palmed Kurt's cock through his briefs then, taking his hardness gently in his hand. Kurt moaned at the touch, clutching Blaine's shoulders in pleasure. Blaine brushed his thumb over Kurt's nipple, slowly, painfully slowly, until it formed a harden nub between his touch. He then pinched it, lightly at first, causing Kurt to cry out slightly, and then harder, as he grabbed Kurt through his underwear.

"Wrap your legs around my waist," Blaine instructed, placing his hands around Kurt's waist. Kurt did as asked without protest. He wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck and felt himself being hoisted onto the concrete on the edge of the pool.

Blaine let go. Kurt was now sitting on concrete, his legs dangling down over the pool and into the water. Blaine grasped him again and pulled him forward so that his ass was on the very edge of the pool.

"Just let me do this," Blaine whispered roughly, a hand on each of Kurt's thighs. He leaned in to to kiss him, long and sweet and Kurt knew at that moment that he would say yes to absolutely anything that Blaine wanted.

Blaine slid his fingers into the waistband of Kurt's boxer briefs and tugged them down until they were off completely. He took in the sight of Kurt's cock, pink and big and hard, oh so achingly hard. His mouth watered at the mere sight of it. He looked up into Kurt's eyes, which were a tumultuous blue-green sea of pure desire and also, intense vulnerability. Blaine didn't know how, but he made _this _boy, this hard, tough, unflappable boy, come undone.

He leaned in to kiss Kurt sweetly again, reassuringly. He then spit on his hand and began slowly to pump Kurt's cock between his first. Kurt groaned and grabbed a fistful of Blaine's curls with one hand, his other hand propping himself up against the concrete. Blaine smiled at the reaction and increased the friction slightly, enjoying the sound of Kurt's erratic moaning. Finally, as he began to feel the slickness of pre-cum escaping the tip, he gave the beautiful cock one more good thrust and then placed his hand back on Kurt's thigh. He looked into Kurt's eyes and leaned forward.

Blaine had never sucked cock before, and he certainly couldn't have expected to say he enjoyed it. But Kurt tasted salty and tangy and a little bit sweet at the same time, and the fullness in Blaine's mouth was wonderful in a way he had trouble describing.

He first took the tip between his lips, kissing it tenderly and then swirling his tongue around it, tasting the pre-cum and getting used to the feeling of the warm hardness in his mouth. Kurt inhaled sharply at Blaine's actions, almost immediately thrusting his hips up involuntarily. Blaine chuckled and placed his hands on Kurt's hips to steady the boy. He took a little more of Kurt's cock into his mouth, sucking it leisurely. He then pulled off all the way and licked a long stripe up the underside of Kurt's hard-on, paying special attention to the pulsating vein there. Kurt was gripping Blaine's head like it was his lifeline as he drowned, and in a way, he was drowning, drowning in the pleasure and the essence of Blaine, everywhere around him, consuming him.

"Fuck…Blaine…" he managed as Blaine took his cock completely in his mouth again and began to suck hard. He bent forward and took more in until he could feel Kurt's length hitting the back of his throat. He lifted one hand and began toying with Kurt's balls, stroking them and then squeezing them softly. He pulled off for a moment and sucked one ball into his mouth, enjoying the way Kurt clenched his thighs around Blaine's head. He licked at the other ball and then moved back to Kurt's neglected cock.

Kurt was watching Blaine's movements unwaveringly, his eyes completely dark now, turning Blaine on even more. He took Kurt fully in his mouth, placing his hand at the base of the cock where his mouth couldn't quite reach. He swirled his tongue around the sides and continued sucking, bobbing his head on and off at a pace that increased torturously slow.

Blaine soon began to feel Kurt's thighs clenching at a more erratic pace and his breath coming heavier, his mewling and whimpering and trying to buck up against Blaine's firm hand. Blaine increased his pace and continued sucking with zeal.

"Oh…God…fuck…Oh my God…" Kurt was uttering as his toes began to curl under the water. Blaine glanced up and saw Kurt's head tossed back, his dripping hair highlighted in the moonlight, his chest shining like carved marble, his lips parted in pleasure, and eyes closed, breathing heavily. God it was so fucking hot. Blaine didn't know what had possessed him to do this, only that he had felt he had to.

"Blaine…I'm gonna…I'm gonna…" Kurt tried to get his sentence out but Blaine increased his sucking, making forming a coherent sentence nearly impossible.

With a final air-shattering cry, Kurt exploded, his whole body convulsing as he came in Blaine's mouth. Blaine continued to suck him as Kurt continued to shudder, moaning and writhing on the edge of the pool shamelessly. Blaine licked up all of the cum, enjoying Kurt's taste much to his surprise. He worked Kurt through his orgasm until the boy finally stopped shaking and slumped forward in blissed-out exhaustion. Blaine caught him and tilted his head back slightly to kiss him again, letting Kurt taste himself in Blaine's mouth.

He placed his hands on the edge of the pool and pulled himself out of the water as well, allowing Kurt to lay his head back on the concrete. Blaine straddled him and began kissing him more, tenderly, softly, with no agenda other than simply to kiss him. Kurt returned his kisses with his own, sweet, tired ones and Blaine couldn't help but realize how much he had enjoyed this, watching Kurt fall apart like that, how much he had loved being the one to do it, how much he loved kissing Kurt in his orgasm-induced haze.

And it was frightening to realize that if he was being truthful, Blaine didn't want this to have to stop.


	11. Only If For A Night

**A/N: As usual, I am so so sorry for the delay! I'm afraid that now that I'm back at school, there's no way I can update quite as frequently as I was updating, but I'm still going to aim for at least twice a week. This chapter is by FAR my longest and I'm hoping to make most of my chapters more towards this length from now on too, so that also should be a bonus. That's about all I have to say, except for, I really enjoyed the reviews for the last chapter; I'm glad you guys thought it was hot, because I definitely did! Don't worry, more wonderful smuttiness to come in the future. Plenty of it. Please enjoy this and REVIEW if you like! It would make my day! For real. It would. Also follow or favorite if you feel led to do so. That also would make me pretty jazzed. Much love to you all! xoxo**

* * *

_And I heard your voice, as clear as day  
And you told me I should concentrate  
It was all so strange, and so surreal  
That a ghost should be so practical  
Only if for a night_

-Only If For A Night by Florence + the Machine

Hurriedly tugging his underwear back on, grabbing his clothes and then tailing it around to the front of the house where moments later the sound of an engine kick starting and then a motorcycle roaring off into the night: this was the last Blaine had seen of Kurt.

He didn't know what had happened. One moment they had been lying there contentedly on the concrete, Blaine's damp head of curls resting lightly on Kurt's chest when Kurt suddenly started. He arose in a panic and then, in mere moments he was hightailing it out of there.

Blaine had tried to stop him, had called his name and even begun chasing after him.

_Where are you going?_

_Leave me alone Blaine! _The voice that responded was full of so much hurt and anger that Blaine stopped short where he was, his feet planted to the ground. Within a few mere seconds, Kurt was gone. And Blaine was, it was safe to say, more confused than he had ever been in his whole life.

x-x-x-x-x-x

When Kurt finally got home, his dad and stepmother were, fortunately in bed. Kurt hated to let his mind wander to what events might have _caused_ them to end up in bed, the dishes on the table from Carole's immaculate meal left uncharacteristically un-cleared, but he didn't dwell on it.

Instead, he headed downstairs to his room, not bothering to worry about not slamming the door, because who was paying attention to hear it after all?

And once he reached his bed, he flung himself face down across it with all of the drama of a fifteen-year-old girl and began to sob.

He tried to keep his tears quiet but as he let the sorrow overtake him, it became more and more impossible to hold it in. His long but slight frame was wracked with cries as he lay there shaking, consumed by his tears. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried like this. It wasn't his style. He preferred sex, booze and drugs as a problem-solver. But right now, his heart felt inexplicably crushed and he couldn't suppress the embarrassing weeping that had engulfed him.

He heard a light knocking on the door to his room that led to the outside then. At first it wasn't so easy to catch over the sound of his sobs and he simply ignored it. But it repeated itself, this time louder and more insistent. Ugh. Finn was probably just getting back from his girlfriend's house and didn't want to risk using the front door and getting caught with a hickey on his neck by their parents. He was always sneaking in late at night through Kurt's room, which could be incredibly awkward when Kurt invited the occasional _guest_ over for a late night booty call.

"Come in," he snuffled annoyedly. He might've tried to hide the fact that he'd been crying, had it been anyone other than Finn. But right now, he just felt so utterly broken up and devastated, for reasons he himself couldn't entirely pinpoint, that he didn't really care. He just buried his face in his pillow and hoped Finn would ignore him and leave quickly. Bad boy image be damned.

"Kurt," a voice said softly from the doorway and Kurt nearly leapt out of his skin when he recognized it as not Finn's dopey baritone but the light, seductive tenor of someone much different.

"God," Kurt groaned, not lifting his face from the pillow. He definitely wasn't willing to reveal this side of himself to Blaine.

"Kurt, talk to me. What happened back there?"

"You just need to fucking leave me alone. How many times do I have to say it Blaine?"

Kurt felt a weight depressing the edge of his mattress as Blaine sat down there. He had the urge to move further away, to curl himself up into a little ball and close his eyes, pretend his mother was here maybe, stroking his hair, making all of this go away. She'd understand. He could explain to her everything that had been going on, how confused he was. She would have an answer for him.

"Kurt, please." Blaine's voice was softer than Kurt had ever heard it, almost pleading. "You seemed to be into everything. You seemed fine. And then all of a sudden you were running. And you _drove _home, drunk! Do you realize how dangerous that was? You could've gotten yourself killed!" Blaine's voice was protective and angry now, and Kurt would've been turned on if he hadn't been so distraught.

"What's it to you? You can replace me in a heartbeat."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me Blaine!" Kurt sat up then, wiping his eyes on his pillowcase, a disgusting act he would never engage in under normal circumstances. "I've been around the block enough times to recognize when I'm being used. Don't you think I ever get sick of it? Tired of being some straight boy's experimental wet dream, you know, just until he 'gets it out of his system' or while he's 'horny and in between girlfriends'? Just good for a quick fuck until the guy chickens out again and remembers that he's supposed to be straight and runs back to his perfect little life with the girlfriend and the future with the white picket fence, 9-5 job, 2.5 kids and a golden retriever. I'm _never_ going to have any of that! Instead I just get to sit here, waiting for some little straight boy to come along and let himself get lost in indulging a twisted fantasy for a little bit before he goes back to reality. But I don't get to go back to reality. My reality is ending up alone in bed like a used-up condom, dirty and spent and feeling like nothing better than a cheap whore. And the worst part about it is that it's never going to _end_. This is my life. And you know what, I've accepted it. It might not sound like it, but I honestly have. I keep boys at an arm's length so no one gets to hurt me again. I pick guys who aren't going to try to worm their way into my life, my heart, before inevitably breaking all their promises to me and breaking my heart in the end. I protect myself. But every once in a while I get little fuckers like you who just won't listen when I tell them to stay away. Don't you get that it's in everyone's best interest?" Kurt was panting when he was done with his impromptu speech, his cheeks flushed and eyes still red and glistening not only from the tears before but also new ones that were now threatening to spill down.

"You've had your heart broken?" was all Blaine said as he looked at Kurt, chest heaving, hair a mess, sitting across the bed from him.

Kurt glared at the question. "Stop it. Stop playing with me."

"No I'm genuinely surprised. I would think you'd be the one to do all the heart breaking." Blaine said softly.

"I am, now. I've learned." Kurt said, his usual callousness having returned to his voice now.

Blaine looked at Kurt wide-eyed, blinking slowly once before asking what was clearly on his mind. "You don't think I'm going to break your heart, do you?"

"Don't flatter yourself Anderson," Kurt snorted, but it was half-hearted, and he wouldn't meet Blaine's eyes.

"Kurt, I'm in much more trouble here than you are."

"Right. Because you have so much to lose, your girlfriend, your popularity, your future as America's next golden boy of the decade."

"No," Blaine responded, bending his head forward so that his forehead rested against Kurt's in a surprisingly sentimental gesture. "Because I'm in this so much deeper than you are."

Kurt swallowed audibly. "Don't say that. You don't want to say that."

"It's true though," Blaine protested softly.

"No," Kurt shook his head but didn't stop Blaine from leaning forward to press his lips against Kurt's in a kiss more chaste, yet more tender and passionate than any Kurt could ever remember having.

"Don't do this," Kurt warned against Blaine's lips, but the olive-skinned boy, curls still damp from their earlier escapade in the pool, leaned in again to kiss Kurt, deepening it only slightly, temptingly, before pulling back again. This time, much to Blaine's delight, it was Kurt that leaned forward with a sigh of resignation and pressed his lips against Blaine's, his hand going up almost involuntarily to the curls he had come to adore so quickly. Blaine moaned softly and surrendered completely to Kurt's touch, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was nowhere in the world he would currently rather be than here in Kurt Hummel's arms.

The two boys kissed for a while, gently, slowly, exploring each other in ways they hadn't had a chance to do before. Their two previous experiences with each other had both been so frantic, so full of lust and desperation. Now they were kissing simply to kiss, to learn each other, to be close to each other and enjoy each other. Kurt had resigned himself to his own actions after a few minutes and was no longer shaking his head and murmuring _no_ or _we can't do this_ every time he paused to take a breath.

They finally stopped and fell into a comfortable silence, Kurt's head resting on Blaine's chest, his mind being lulled in a peaceful, drowsy state by the steady breathing.

"Kurt." Blaine broke the calm reverie.

"Mmm?" Kurt responded contentedly, even as a pang of a guilt shot through him, aware as he was that he shouldn't be allowing this to happen.

"It's getting kinda late and I- I actually kind of actually promised my mom I wouldn't come home tonight."

"You promised your mom you _wouldn't _come home?" Kurt propped himself up on one elbow, sharp surprise and concern laced in his tone.

Blaine flushed embarrassedly. "Yeah. That's why she gave me the car. She sorta…likes to entertain overnight guests sometimes. She doesn't like me around when she does that."

"What about your dad?" Kurt asked tactlessly.

Blaine shrugged. "On a business trip."

"So you just allow your mom to cheat on your dad regularly and don't say anything about it at all?"

Blaine looked truly uncomfortable now. Kurt was prying but sometimes he didn't realize his lack of etiquette until it was much too late.

"I, uh, I'm pretty sure my dad knows."

Kurt looked puzzled again but decided to stop grilling the poor kid.

"So you need somewhere to stay?"

"Well I hate to intrude but…yeah, sorta," Blaine admitted sheepishly.

Kurt huffed but stood up and went over to his dressers, bending over to tug open the bottom drawer. "This goes against like _all_ of my hookup rules. But I can't very well turn you out onto the streets now, can I?" He returned to the bed and tossed a neatly folded pair of pajamas Blaine's way. "Bathroom's that way," he instructed, gesturing with his thumb to the door in the far corner of the room. "I'll change out here."

Blaine wanted to point out that he had already seen Kurt naked once that night but decided that he was lucky enough Kurt was allowing him to stay and he had better not push it.

"And just so you're aware, when we get up in the morning, we are telling my dad that you are a _friend_ who came over to work on a school project with me and stayed so late that you were too tired to drive home. Also, Finn will likely be at breakfast, so good luck explaining that one. That's all you."

Blaine shrugged casually. "Finn's a pretty easy-going guy it seems. I don't think I have anything to worry about with him."

"Maybe so. But you'd be surprised how quickly rumors spread when you start hanging out with the school's token faggot." Kurt said somewhat bitterly, his eyes looking off in the distance, as if he were remembering something else, from another time, not present in the room with Blaine.

"Why do you always do that?" Blaine asked.

"What?" Kurt was pulled from his daydream back to reality, staring at Blaine blankly.

"Refer to yourself as a faggot. It's so derogatory."

"Calling myself a faggot stings a lot less than when _they_ call me one," Kurt answered truthfully. "When I call myself a faggot, I'm taking back the word, you know? Showing them that they can't hurt me. They don't own me like that. When I say faggot, I diffuse the bomb. It has no power over me anymore." He looked at Blaine, a small light of confidence shining in his eyes that Blaine had never noticed before. But then, in just as quick of a moment, it was gone completely.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about."

Blaine said nothing.

"Right," Kurt said rather coldly. "Well go on then, get your pajamas on. I have to use the bathroom after you and my skincare routine alone takes a good forty-five minutes, so you better hustle." He paused for a moment. "And _don't _expect this to become a regular thing."

Blaine nodded quickly, silently gathering the pajamas in his arms before taking the pile to the bathroom and changing quickly, unable, despite it all, to stop reveling in the fact that he was spending the night in Kurt Hummel's house, in his _bed._

x-x-x-x-x-x

Kurt awoke in the middle of the night, sweating from all the bedclothes and the person that was draped across his body..._the person! _His mind went into a slight panic, wondering who on earth was in his bed, how he had gotten there and how Kurt could get rid of him.

The person lounging across him sighed deeply then, shifting slightly to clutch more tightly at Kurt's undershirt. Kurt felt a sprig of curls brush at his chin. _Blaine_.

The realization suddenly hit him with full force. Blaine was in his bed. _Blaine was in his bed_. He had let him stay the night. That was something that he absolutely never, ever did, and yet he had made an exception for this foolish, annoyingly charming, incessant, naïve boy. This was dangerous, a dangerous move. Why had he allowed this to happen?

He bent his chin awkwardly to look down at the peacefully sleeping boy on his chest. Blaine was curled as close to him as he possibly could be, hands entwined in his wife beater, legs bent up in the fetal position and tangled with Kurt's legs. Kurt shifted again to try to adjust Blaine, maybe get the boy to move off of him a little, because it was hot in his room, and he was uncomfortable. But Blaine only moaned slightly in protest at Kurt's attempts and clung to him more tightly. Kurt sighed and resigned himself to his fate with Blaine as his human barnacle for the night.

Had it been anyone else, he would've shoved them roughly off, kindheartedness be damned, but Kurt couldn't help but feel like, if the way Blaine was holding onto him so desperately was any indication, the curly-haired boy needed this closeness, if only if for a night. And, though Kurt couldn't admit it to himself, it was nice, this closeness, nice in a way he hadn't expected. It reminded him of all those times when he was younger and naïve like Blaine, and he too had entertained dreams of true love and fantasies of romance. The days before life was just about sex but when it was also about the before and after of sex, the intimacy of sex, the _feelings_. The needing to be near someone else and not alone. Kurt had wanted that once.

He decided then, to let himself indulge this one time, and wrapped his arm around Blaine, pulling the boy closer into his body, causing him to let out an unconscious sigh of contentment. _Yes, this was sort of nice_, Kurt thought. Even if it was only for a night.

x-x-x-x-x-x

When the sun finally came up in the morning, the boys were still wrapped up in each other in Kurt's bed. This time, Blaine woke before Kurt. He took a luxurious moment while Kurt was still asleep to survey his sleeping form. He looked nothing short of beautiful as he lay there sleeping, his perfect hair sexily tousled from sleep, his face arranged in an expression of peaceful relaxation that Blaine couldn't remember having really ever seen on Kurt before. He looked so lovely like this. Blaine wished he had access to this side of Kurt all the time, but he knew that even after last night, all of Kurt's walls were still up and it would be a long time, if ever, that Kurt would truly relax and let Blaine in. Blaine let his body slacken against Kurt's, fitting himself against the other boy like they were two pieces of the same puzzle. He couldn't help but enjoy this more than he knew he should.

Kurt began to stir then, eyelids fluttering in an endearing manner, making a slight moaning noise as he did.

"Oh," he said groggily when he opened his eyes fully and saw Blaine still wrapped up in him. "You're here still."

Blaine, who had pretended to be asleep as soon as he noticed Kurt waking up, now pretended to awaken as well, quickly pulling away from Kurt as if the snuggling had been entirely accidental. "Oh wow, sorry," he apologized awkwardly.

"'S fine," Kurt murmured with an uncomfortable shrug.

"Did you not want me to stay here?"

"What?" Kurt inquired, genuinely confused.

"It's just that you seemed surprised that I was still here when you woke up. Did you want me to leave?"

"No. I said you could stay the night, didn't I? I'm just not used to waking up with someone else in my bed. I forgot," Kurt explained, hoping this would quell Blaine's curiosity. It did, for the moment.

"Kay, well I better get out of here," Blaine said finally after a few moments of awkward silence. He pushed away the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, beginning to relieve himself of Kurt's clothes.

"Hey now, wait a minute. You can't leave. We're going to talk about this."

"What's there to talk about?" Blaine asked, an expression of genuine bewilderment spreading across his handsome features.

"Are you fucking kidding me Anderson? I do a body shot off of you, you suck me off in a pool and then spend the night in my bed and you don't think there's anything we need to talk about?"

Blaine's expression became a bit sheepish then as he realized that, when putting it that way, Kurt was rather right.

"Look, Kurt, I don't…really know what to say. I'm not-"

"Gay," Kurt cut in, knowing what Blaine was about to say. "I know, I know, I've heard it all before. Regardless of what you did last night, regardless of the fact that you have a girlfriend but you still sought out sex with a boy, regardless of the fact that you woke up clutching me like a frightened three-year-old with his teddy bear, you're straight. Whatever. I'm not here to help you figure out your sexuality issues. But we need to establish what our relationship is. I won't live without boundaries. Boundaries keep people safe." From the way Kurt spoke, so confidently and astutely, it was obvious to Blaine that the boy _had_ given the speech multiple times before and he couldn't help but feel a surprising twinge of jealousy strike in the pit of his stomach at Kurt's reference to his varied past hookups.

"Okay," he nodded slowly, trying to focus on Kurt's words and not his own unsettling feelings of possessiveness.

"So if we're going to do this, there have to be rules."

"Do this?" Blaine choked out, looking up to meet Kurt's hauntingly beautiful blue eyes, with shock and excitement mingling in his own.

Kurt had to bite back a slight smile at the boy's reaction, but realized at the same time that the eagerness with which Blaine was responding to his proposition was dangerous, for both of them.

"Yes. We can continue doing this, since you seem to be unwilling to take no for an answer. But you have to adhere _strictly _to the guidelines I'm going to lay out, otherwise it's over."

"Sure, yes, whatever you want," Blaine nodded eagerly, embarrassed a little bit by his own enthusiasm, but too tantalized by the prospect of what was to come to care much. He didn't know _why _he wanted this so badly and the answer definitely wasn't something he was interested in exploring. All he knew was that he did want it, and that it made him feel better about things. And why would he want to put an end to that?

"Okay, here it is. But this will _only _work if you're honest with me. If you find that you can't agree to any of the things I say, then we're going to have call it quits, alright? "

"Fine," Blaine agreed impatiently. "Just tell me the rules already."

"Slow down Curly-Q," Kurt said, this time not bothering to hide the amused glint in his eyes. "Okay let me think. First thing, you tell _nobody_ about this arrangement. And I mean absolutely nobody. No exceptions."

Blaine scoffed. "Like I'm the one you have to worry about telling people. Do you realize how much I have to lose-" He was silenced by a deathly glare from Kurt.

"That's rule number two. No undermining me, trying to make yourself feel better about what's going on by mocking me or humiliating me in public or in front of your friends. I don't take that kind of shit, especially from people I'm hooking up with. So be respectful. That doesn't mean we have to be friends in school. In fact, I'd really rather we weren't. But it does mean you have to treat me like a decent human being."

Blaine nodded. He knew how important that one was to Kurt, and it made him ache a little bit to think that it was even a necessary rule to lay out, but even as he thought about it, he realized with shame how likely he himself would be to sell Kurt out when he was in front of his popular friends.

"Okay, this rule kind of piggybacks on that one, but basically, we can't be friends."

Blaine sputtered a bit. "What are you talking about?"

"Situations like this have a tendency to get very messy and so, in order to protect both of us and make this as simple and fun as possible, we need to try to restrict our relationship to that which is purely sexual. Which means, no "hanging out". If we're not having sex, I don't want to see you. Don't come over just to chill or talk. No inside jokes, no terms of endearment, no affectionate gestures. No tender love-making. And definitely no more spending the night. This is about sex, about needs. Nothing else. I don't want to hold you, or let you cry on my shoulder, and I definitely don't want to hear about your personal life. Don't let the lines get blurred. You start to find yourself feeling confused, you tell me immediately and we end it. It's for your own good more than mine."

Kurt could see the hurt flash in Blaine's hazel eyes. "But- we- God, Kurt, I'm not just some piece of ass."

"Actually," Kurt said with a calculatedly cold look on his face, "That's exactly what you are. I have no interest in anything about you other than your ass. You start forgetting that and, like I said-"

"It's over. I get it," Blaine said, swallowing slightly. "But what about our community service project? We still have to get together to work on that," he interjected.

"Ah." It was obvious from Kurt's expression that he had forgotten completely about that. He thought for a moment. "Okay, so when we get together to work on our project, we meet in a neutral, preferably public place. We do not reference our extracurricular activities. We keep it strictly professional. The only times you are allowed to make any sort of mention of what we do outside of school is when we are arranging a time and place for meeting. And in order to do that, we will develop code words."

Blaine let out a hearty chuckle before realizing that Kurt wasn't joking. "This is a serious matter Blaine, and if you can't see that, then I'm afraid we're going to have to end this before it really even begins."

"No, no I get it," Blaine interjected. "What are the code words?"

"They should be related to the community service project so nobody gets suspicious. If one of us wants to initiate a hookup, we ask the other one to get together in order to discuss a new development for the GSA."

"GSA?"

"Gay Straight Alliance," Kurt answered with a smirk. "That is, after all, what this, isn't it?"

"Yeah but won't people be curious as to what that is?"

"Yeah and you tell them it's the name of the Gay Lesbian center we're teaming up with." Kurt looked at Blaine carefully, cocking an eyebrow accusatorily. "Don't tell me you're worried to tell people you're teaming up with a bunch of queers. It was your idea to help the center and try to raise awareness in the school, if I do recall."

"Yeah, I know," Blaine replied heavily. "I just hope my mom doesn't get wind of it."

Kurt noted the tension and worry in Blaine's voice when he mentioned his mother but he didn't ask, as much as he was tempted to. That would be breaking the rules before they even started yet.

"Shoulda thought of that before you suggested it," Kurt said nonchalantly, even as he felt his heart twinge slightly at the callousness of his comment. He shrugged it off and continued with his list.

"And I guess we'll have to come up with code words for our meeting places too, but we haven't even established what those are yet, so we can talk about that later."

"Fine," Blaine said shrugging. "But we should probably add something to our code phrase so that the other one knows that we're talking about a hook up and not actually about the project."

"Good point," Kurt said thoughtfully.

"How about Code Red?" Blaine suggested, a hopeful look on his face that Kurt couldn't help but find adorable.

"Yeah, yeah, not bad. I like that. Makes it sound really urgent. Which it is." He licked his lips slightly at the prospect, causing Blaine's stomach to curl a little bit. Oh God, he was excited about this arrangement.

"And last," Kurt said, "We need to really watch ourselves. For now, I don't want to put a limit on our time together, but everyone knows that you spend that much time being 'intimate', per se, with someone else, and feelings are bound to develop for at least one party. So if either of us feels things getting too intense, we take some space and back off."

Blaine nodded somberly.

"And nothing- boyfriendy, alright? I've had a lot of experience over the years learning to separate sex from emotions but some guys, especially ones who are new to this, have trouble making the distinction. So you need to be really careful. Train yourself. Train your emotions. Force yourself to detach."

"God," Blaine grumbled. "Leave it to you to turn hooking up into the most calculated, boring sounding thing ever."

Kurt raised an eyebrow in sudden interest at Blaine's words. Blaine saw a slight flash of something dark in Kurt's eyes; yes, the other boy looked a little bit dangerous, and it was hot.

"Did you just say hooking up with me was going to be boring and calculated?"

"N-no," Blaine stammered awkwardly. "That's not what I meant."

"Fuck yeah, that's not what you meant. You are in for some heavy surprises Blaine Anderson. I just hope you can handle it all. I'm not exactly your run-of-the-mill fuck buddy."

"I can handle it," Blaine said with more confidence than he felt, trying to impress Kurt, if that was even at all possible.

"If you say so. Oh- one more thing!"

"Seriously?" Blaine groaned. "What other stipulation could you _possibly_ have?"

"It's not a stipulation," Kurt said, sounding slightly affronted. "I just want to establish the fact that during this time, you can see whoever else you want. I know that girlfriend of yours probably has needs you're required to fulfill, though we all know actual fucking isn't one of them."

Blaine shook his head, deciding to ignore Kurt's dig about his sex life, and also deciding that he wouldn't tell Kurt about the half-sex he had engaged in with Quinn, and how it been a massive, embarrassing, uncomfortable failure and caused him to go running directly into Kurt's arms. No, Kurt didn't need to be aware of all that.

"Whatever," Blaine responded, skirting around the mention of Quinn. "I just hope you're careful. I don't want to get any diseases."

"That is a disgusting stereotype," Kurt practically spat. "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I have STDs. In fact, I'm probably cleaner than the rest of you McKinley heteros combined. I take practicing safe sex very seriously."

Blaine swallowed slightly. "So, does that mean you're gonna keep sleeping with that other guy?"

"What other guy?" Kurt said, playing the dumb card.

"You know the one Kurt," Blaine answered in exasperation. "The guy that came over here that day we were working on our project. The guy that's always coming over."

Kurt waved his hand dismissively. "He's not something you need to worry about."

"I'd at least like to know who else you're swapping bodily fluids with. If we're going to be together, then it kind of becomes my business who else you're with at the same time."

"On the contrary." Kurt shook his head, a dark look in his eyes that warned Blaine not to push him. "I fuck who I want, you fuck who I want, we fuck each other when we want, for as long as we want, until we no longer want to. If you're going to get jealous and snoopy, then you might as well show yourself out now. Because let's get one thing straight right from the get go. And that is that you own no part of me Blaine Anderson. Nobody does and nobody ever will. I'm leaving at the end of this year to go to New York and I'm not looking back. You have no significant place in my life. Understood?"

Blaine just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He felt very small in that moment, and very uncertain, but also very turned on. It was the adrenaline rush you got before you went cliff diving or bungee jumping, before you stepped off that rock ledge or that wooden tower to go soaring through the air on a fragile zip line. Right now, Blaine's toes were just hanging off the edge and his body was sweating, his fingers tingling, as he prepared himself to take the leap. He knew it would be fun, exhilarating, and, he would even go so far as to say, the experience of a lifetime. But he had no idea what state he would find himself in once he reached the bottom.

x-x-x-x-x-x

As previously discussed, the boys showered quickly and separately, Blaine dressing in the same clothes he had worn the night before, before going upstairs to eat breakfast with Kurt's family.

"After this morning, I don't think it's a very good idea for you to have any more interaction with my family, besides Finn obviously," Kurt had warned as he was styling his hair in front of his vanity. "It's too much like something a boyfriend would do."

Blaine didn't really protest because not only did meeting Kurt's family make him nervous, but this also meant that Kurt wouldn't expect to meet Blaine's "family", and Blaine couldn't be more grateful for that.

When Kurt was finally done with his excessive morning routine, which Blaine was horrified to hear he had actually _sped_ through this morning, and yet it had still taken him that long, they had gone upstairs only to be greeted immediately with the smell of French toast, eggs, bacon and sausages. A full, home cooked breakfast, the likes of which Blaine hadn't seen since visiting his grandparent's house, several years ago.

"Hi Sweetie," Carole said as she heard the footsteps behind her, and Blaine was rather shocked to hear this woman whom Kurt had made out to be such a monster referring to Kurt as "sweetie." It made him wonder what was going on underneath the surface, and more than that, it made him smile: to hear this sexy, badass, no-nonsense boy being called such a sweet motherly nickname. It was nothing if not endearing.

Blaine felt Kurt prickle next to him at her words, but only slightly. "Morning Carole," he answered, pulling out a chair. "I had a friend sleep over last night. I hope that's alright."

Blaine was even more shocked at this. Kurt, asking for permission from his stepmother? This was far from the interaction Blaine would have expected between stepmother and stepson. Needless to say, none of the other family members had entered the kitchen yet, so perhaps this was what inspired Kurt's polite behavior. Regardless, Blaine was intrigued.

Carole replied without even bothering to turn around and see who the mystery guest was. "Of course that's fine, Kurt, we never mind you having friends stay over. She layered a last stack of French toast onto a platter and then put her spatula down, wiping her hands on a dish towel and turning around to greet Blaine.

"Hi, I'm Carole. I don't believe we've met."

"No ma'am," Blaine answered, politely extending his hand to shake Carole's in return. "I'm Blaine Anderson. I've actually played football with Finn for a couple years now, but you probably wouldn't have heard of me."

Carole put her hands on her hips thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it, you do look familiar. I'm sorry we haven't met before."

"Oh don't worry about it," Blaine said kindly. "Finn and I have rather different circles of friends I suppose."

"I see," Carole said, but not coldly. "Well perhaps since you're friends with Kurt, you and Finn can get to know each other a little bit too," she added hopefully.

Blaine was about to agree when Kurt cut in. "I sort of misspoke earlier, Carole. We're not really, uhm, friends. We're just doing a community service project together for a school assignment and Blaine was here working on it too late last night to go home. That's the only reason he stayed over. So we'll be around each other a bit till we finish the project but we're just partners. It's nothing else."

"Oh. Alright," Carole said, frowning slightly. It was strange that Kurt seemed so adamant about making it clear that he and Blaine were _not_ friends. Strange enough to make Carole suspicious that there was something else going on that Kurt wasn't telling her about. She glanced at Blaine, who was biting his lip, saying nothing.

"I'm going to call your father and Finn. I assume you'd like to stay for breakfast Blaine?" She said, turning to the curly-haired boy. This time, Blaine glanced at Kurt before responding to Carole. Kurt shook his head, ever so slightly, instructing Blaine to deny the invitation.

"Oh thank you Mrs. Hummel, but that's really alright. I'm sure my mother will want me home."

"Nonsense," Carole interjected. She had noticed Kurt's gesture to Blaine and now she _knew _something was up. "I'm sure your mother won't mind. I'll even call her if you like. You boys must have had a very long night, working on that project so hard. You stay the night in the Hummel-Hudson home, the least I can do is make sure you're properly fed."

Kurt glanced at Blaine with a look of pure annoyance on his face. Blaine felt embarrassed, since Kurt obviously didn't want him here, but at the same time, he felt his stomach growling at the scent of the delicious breakfast Carole had made. And no part of him was exactly eager to get back home to his own mother, who definitely wouldn't have kind words, or a hearty meal, waiting for him.

"I'd be happy to," he said with a warm smile, not caring that Kurt was practically glowering at him. Carole had invited him. It would be more suspicious to insist no.

"Wonderful," Carole said with a smile. She went into the living to call upstairs for the rest of her family to come to breakfast. Kurt moved to pour himself a cup of coffee while Blaine just stood there, looking awkward.

"I can't believe you," Kurt hissed under his breath as he began stirring in a teaspoon of non-fat creamer. "You're already breaking the rules!"

"I'm sorry," Blaine returned unapolgetically. "But what did you expect me to do?"

"Say no! Say your mother would be worried sick and you absolutely had to go home! Anything! God, you can be so dense!" Kurt looked furious.

Right at that moment, Carole walked back in, stifling any further discussion on the topic.

"The boys should be down any minute," she informed them, glancing at Kurt as he was taking his first sip of coffee.

"Kurt didn't you think to offer any to Blaine?"

"Blaine doesn't like coffee," Kurt said rudely before Blaine had a chance to answer.

"Actually, I've been starting to drink it recently," Blaine interjected, flashing a dazzling smile in response to the furious expression on Kurt's face. He knew he was pushing his luck but he wasn't going to be pushed around like some cheap whore. Two could play at this game and Blaine wasn't going to be as easy as Kurt seemed to think he was.

"Perfect, I've just brewed this fresh," Carole said, also seemingly aware of what Kurt was trying to do, and siding with Blaine. "Go on Kurt, pour your friend a cup," she prodded.

Kurt begrudgingly went to the cupboard where he got Blaine a mug and poured him a steaming cup of the heavenly-scented black liquid. He practically shoved the cup into Blaine's hands, almost spilling the hot coffee all over him as he did so. Blaine noticed with some mild amusement that the mug said, "I'm A Member of Sexy Moms Anonymous." He was certain Kurt had picked it purposefully out of spite. He chuckled and simply took a deep sip of the beverage, pissing Kurt off even more.

In that moment, Finn entered the room, the remnants of sleep still obviously clinging to him as he was wearing plaid boxers, a wrinkled t-shirt and had his hair sticking up on several different ends. He rubbed the sleep from his bleary eyes.

"Smells good," he mumbled, stumbling to his chair before noticing that there was a third person standing in the kitchen.

"Oh wow, hey, sorry, didn't realize Kurt had company," he said in embarrassment. He rubbed his eyes again and noticed who it was. _Blaine_. The guy he had pulled off of Kurt in the cafeteria not one week ago.

"Hey!" he said, anger suddenly flashing across his mild features. "What the hell are _you _doing here?"

"Finn Christopher Hudson! You apologize to our guest right now!"

"No way! Mom, this is the douche that beat up Kurt at school," Finn snapped, blatantly ignoring Kurt's wild gestures and Blaine's expression of worry.

Carole's face fell. "Is that true Kurt?"

"No," Kurt replied quickly. "Like I told you originally, _I _was the one to beat up him. And because of that, we got assigned a community service project. So now we're working together. And we're being civil. There's no need to bring up past indiscretions," he directed a poisonous look at Finn as he said this.

Carole looked confused but decided not to press it further. She could tell that Blaine wasn't a threat to Kurt. If anything, it was the other way around. And she still maintained that there was something more going on between the two boys that Kurt wasn't admitting. There was a certain energy between them; she wasn't blind. Burt certainly wouldn't appreciate it, but Carole didn't plan on telling him, at least not for a while. She wasn't sure exactly what was going on between the boys yet, but she hoped she'd be seeing a lot more of Blaine. Perhaps their "friendship" or whatever it was, had started out as a fight, but it was obviously much different now. And it seemed to her that this Blaine might be a good influence on her moody and broken stepson.

Finn, however, was still seething. "I can't believe you're defending this asshole."

"Language!" Carole exploded. She had never been more ashamed of her son until this moment, although she did have to admit that a small swell of motherly pride at her son's protectiveness towards his stepbrother was mixed in with her fury.

"Can I say something?" Everyone was a little bit startled to hear Blaine's smooth voice all of a sudden emerge in the thick of things. No one responded, so he just kept talking. "I understand why you don't like me Finn, I really do. I wasn't exactly incredibly kind to Kurt when I first met him. We had our differences for sure. But I promise you, none of that stemmed from any sort of homophobia. I never wanted to hurt Kurt. Things just got out of control that day and I couldn't be more sorry. I'm working right now to make reparations. And I'd like to make reparations with you too, if possible. I mean, we're on the same team after all."

Finn just grunted at this, but it was clear from his facial expression that his attitude toward Blaine had softened a little.

"That's incredibly kind of you Blaine," Carole said, ever the optimist. "Can I ask what you two are working on as your community service project?"

"Yes, actually, it's pretty cool stuff. We're working together with a Gay Lesbian Center that was trying to establish themselves in Lima but had to stop due to a lack of funds. We're trying to help with fundraising so that they can get going again, and at the same time, raise awareness about the center and the issues it deals with at our school. Kind of killing two birds with one stone. And hopefully, if we can raise enough money to get renovations going again, we can be part of the team helping to work on the building and get things running." Blaine spoke with such pride and confidence, Kurt was a little bit blown away. He still didn't know what the boy's game was, choosing the GLC as their community service project, but he had to admit, it was touching to hear Blaine speak so passionately about something that meant so much to Kurt. It was actually kinda hot.

Kurt chastised himself then, because Blaine's personality was _not_ something Kurt was supposed to find himself attracted to. This was not at all going according to plan.

"That's such a great idea," Carole enthused. "Why didn't you tell us Kurt? We're so proud of you. Both of you. What a wonderful project."

Kurt shrugged awkwardly. "It's not really a big deal. Can we just eat please?" He pulled out the chair across from Finn and sat down, scarfing down some eggs the moment he could get them on his fork. Blaine watched awkwardly from the side before Carole came over and ushered him to a seat next to Kurt. "Please help yourself."

And Blaine did, despite the fact that Kurt was pointedly ignoring him and Finn was casting wary glances his direction every couple of minutes. Carole sat down with her own cup of coffee and made pleasant small talk, which Blaine responded to easily. They were soon chatting and laughing like old friends. Kurt was infuriated but he kept his thoughts to himself.

Kurt was hurrying through breakfast and trying to urge Blaine along too, hoping against hope that they could get Blaine out of there before his dad came down. Blaine, however, was eating at a painfully leisurely pace, and in the meantime completely charming Carole with his unusually good manners and devastating charisma. Even Finn was engaging in their conversation now, as Blaine skillfully swung the topic around to football, getting the other boy's attention immediately.

"Come on Blaine, we'd better go," Kurt urged, putting his fork down and pushing his chair back so fast it let out a painful scrape against the hardwood floors.

"Not so fast. I hear someone talking about football?" Burt Hummel entered the scene, freshly shaven in plaid and worn blue jeans, baseball cap already planted on his head. He went over to give his wife a sweet kiss on the cheek before regarding Blaine.

"Hi there. Name's Burt. I don't believe we've met."

"This is Blaine Anderson, Honey," Carole said smoothly, hoping to avoid the awkwardness of their earlier introductions. "He and Kurt are doing a community service project for school helping out the Gay Lesbian Center that's been struggling to set up in town. And he happens to be on the football team with Finn." Carole was positively beaming.

"That's great news," Burt said, sitting down in the seat reserved for him and dutifully loading his plate with food. "Was real disappointed to read in the newspaper about the center having to halt its progress. If you boys need any help with anything, you let me know." He addressed Kurt then. "How come you never mentioned anything about this before?"

Kurt was visibly less tough and much more forthright around his father. Blaine swore he could almost see Kurt shrinking in size. It wasn't that Kurt seemed to fear his father, but there was a tremendous amount of respect there that Blaine had never witnessed Kurt show toward any adult.

"It never really came up," Kurt told him with a slight shrug. "Anyway, it's kind of a new project. Me and Blaine haven't even really started working on it yet. We were just hammering out our game plan last night."

"I thought you were at a party last night," Burt said with some suspicion.

"I left early," Kurt said, which wasn't a total lie. It was true he hadn't stayed for the entire thing.

"And then you came home. To do schoolwork. On a Friday night." Burt's eyes narrowed.

"It's not really schoolwork; it's more like the stuff that I'm doing when I'm writing or working on my music, Dad. It's something I'm passionate about. It doesn't really feel like work to me."

Blaine looked at Kurt in shock. _Writing or working on my music. _Was there yet another fascinating side to the constantly changing Rubik's cube that was Kurt Hummel? For the life of him, Blaine could not figure Kurt out, but slowly, he was working his way in. So Kurt had all these crazy rules meant to keep them apart. Blaine wouldn't be deterred that easily.

Kurt must have sensed Blaine's surprise because he decided then and there that it was _officially_ time to get Blaine out, no more distractions.

"Alright, well as pleasant as this has been, Blaine really has to go. His parents will worry." He stood up and grabbed Blaine by the arm.

"Wait," Blaine protested. "Shouldn't I help clear the dishes or something?"

"Nonsense Sweetie," Carole said, her face flushed at the surprisingly thoughtful offer. "You're a guest in our home."

"Well thank you," Blaine said. "Thank you for letting me stay and breakfast was delicious."

"You're welcome any time," Carole said with a smile, standing up to pour her husband some more coffee.

"Ok, alright, we get it, parting is such sweet sorrow, now let's get a _move_ on," Kurt urged snippily, dragging Blaine out of the kitchen.

Carole, however, followed them to the door of Kurt's room.

"Kurt," she said in a slightly hushed voice as the boys were about to descend the stairs, having left Blaine's coat and car keys down there.

"Yes?" Kurt replied in a clipped tone. Blaine could tell he was having all he could do not to explode in fury right then and there.

"I just wanted to say thank you, for making me over yesterday. I think your dad really appreciated it." She smiled shyly and then, impulsively, reached out and gave Kurt a quick hug.

Blaine saw from the look on Kurt's face that he had been caught completely off guard, but he didn't look angry. Instead, a soft expression had graced his features and he was leaning into the hug slightly, awkwardly, but still making an effort. He closed his eyes for a moment and when they broke the hug and Kurt opened his eyes again, they were glistening, ever so slightly.

Blaine felt his heart swelling. Here was Kurt, tough guy Kurt, fuck buddy Kurt, untouchable Kurt, who had not only sat at home yesterday and given a makeover to a stepmother that he couldn't stand, but was now tearing up at her display of gratitude and affection. It was all so unexpected, so touching. Blaine felt a little bit like welling up himself.

"Alright, well, I'll let you boys get to it," Carole said, walking away as she visibly wiped tears from her own eyes.

Kurt hurried down the stairs, eager to get out of Blaine's line of vision before he saw how emotional he had just gotten.

Blaine waited until they were downstairs with the door closed until he spoke. "Kurt that was- back there with your stepmother- I was so-"

"Did you not understand _anything_ that we discussed earlier, less than one hour ago, right here in this room?" Kurt whirled on him, releasing a sudden flood of rage that he had been building up ever since they walked upstairs.

"Kurt, I was just being polite."

"Oh sure you were. Mooning and fawning over my family like some blushing son-in-law-to-be. You just broke nearly every one of our rules!" Kurt was pacing the room, practically spitting in fury.

"Honestly Kurt, I don't see why you're so upset. Better that your family _not_ hate me, right? Won't that make it easier on you?"

"Those people aren't even my real family!" Kurt yelled, his face reddening as his anger reached a boiling point. "My _dad _is my real family. The other two can go and fuck themselves!"

"Kurt, it seems like they actually really care about you…"

"Oh screw you Blaine! You're as bad as they are. You think because you spent one hour with these people, you understand my whole life now. _Come on Kurt, just give them a chance. Kurt, people get remarried. They move on. You need to, too. You're being selfish Kurt. Just let them in._ I get this bullshit from enough people but I don't have to take it from you too. You don't know anything!" Kurt hurled a pillow across the room, the gesture losing its power when it landed harmlessly against the wall and thumped lightly to the floor.

Kurt sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair, ruining the perfect coif and for once not seeming to care.

"You know what Blaine? This was a mistake. Letting you in, making this arrangement with you, all a huge mistake. I knew it would be, but I went against my better judgment with you anyway and you've already proven that I was right all along. You better just get out of here."

"No," Blaine said, planting his feet firmly a couple feet apart on Kurt's carpet to make his point.

"I'm not kidding Blaine. The deal's off. Leave."

"I'm not leaving."

"Are you fucking shitting me right now?" Kurt walked over to Blaine and tried to physically push the shorter boy toward the doorway. But Blaine, despite his being smaller in stature than Kurt, was still well-muscled. He stood his ground.

"Get…out...of here…" Kurt grunted as he continued trying to shove Blaine.

"Stop pushing me away." Blaine caught one of Kurt's wrists in his hand and put his other hand on Kurt's waist. "Don't fight it," he murmured, as Kurt was suddenly paralyzed by Blaine's gaze, the fight melted out of him the moment their eyes locked. Blaine took advantage of the situation then, and leaned forward to kiss Kurt deeply, warmly, with every ounce of passion he had in his body.

Kurt wanted to remain indifferent but it was impossible. Blaine's body did things to him. He responded in kind, tipping his head so that he could get a better angle on Blaine's lips. It was as if he had been set ablaze; he reached out to grab Blaine's hands from his waist and lifted them both above Blaine's head, pushing him into the wall and pinning his hands above him.

"This is much more like it," Kurt said. "You shouldn't be talking. You should always just be kissing me. That should be the only thing that you do."

He was rewarded momentarily by the capture of his mouth by Blaine's, Blaine's tongue flicking in and out of his lips rapidly, teasingly, his teeth gently tugging at Kurt's lower lip before he let his hand fall down to graze swiftly, but heavily, against Kurt's crotch. Kurt's cock responded instantly, protesting at the fabric it was swathed in, begging for further friction from Blaine. But Blaine pulled back and suddenly, Kurt was flipped around so that it was he who was pinned with his arms above his head against the wall, Blaine breathing heavily against his lips but refusing to meet them.

"Too bad," Blaine said and Kurt was confused momentarily until he realized Blaine was responding to his comment from earlier. "Because you might not want to be my friend or see me in public or have any sort of _meaningful _relationship with me. But you're never going to get me to shut up." Blaine grinned then and kissed Kurt hard, till he was too dizzy to form a sharp comeback.

"And as for your family," Blaine said in between tantalizing kisses. "They're really actually pretty lovely. I know you're pissed off because you feel like your mom got replaced and you weren't good enough for your dad on your own anymore. But you know that's not true. You actually got really lucky." He kissed Kurt again, making the boy groan involuntarily, much to his frustration. "Trust me. I know what it's like to have a family who doesn't care about you. At least yours does, whether you want them to or not." Blaine continued kissing Kurt, disorienting him, making him feel as though he were being dunked in and out of water, in a constant cycle of drowning and then coming up for air, everything becoming blurred and then slowly fixing back into focus.

"But I'll tell you something Kurt Hummel." Blaine was not only kissing down Kurt's neck now, but he was also teasing Kurt's erection with his thigh and knee, rendering Kurt virtually incapacitated for the time being. "I happen to know a little secret. Which is that you care about them just as much as they care about you." He saw the shock and anger flit across Kurt's face before he leaned in one last time and gave him the longest, most erotic kiss yet, this time slipping his hands into Kurt's tight pants and actually giving him a gentle squeeze through his briefs.

"I'll see you later," he breathed into Kurt's ear, sending tickling sensations all down the boy's spine and causing his erection to throb even more. Blaine walked out then and moments later was pulling out of the driveway, leaving Kurt slumped against the wall, breathless, confused and turned-on, certain that he had gotten himself in over his head, but still not willing to give this up.


	12. No Light, No Light

**A/N:** **I am so so so sorry about the time it took for me to get this up but I promise you, it's not just because I'm lazy; life just came over and sort of threw some major, terrible things at me but it's finally starting to look up a little bit. Anyway, the first half of this is just entirely smut, which could be because I wrote it while drunk, so please forgive me if it sucks completely. Future smut promises to be better. Also, there is more brief smut at the end though Warning: smut between Kurt and somebody other than Blaine! [Sorry, I hate it too.] Also, hints of sadism? I guess I should warn about that too. Kay, well I love you all, I love your reviews, I love everything about you, you're darlings. Please please review or favorite if you like? But only if you want to. OH and I also have two WIPs going on right now: my daddy!Klaine fic, _A Father's First Spring_ has been getting some attention so take a gander if you like. That's why this is taking a bit longer to update too, but I promise I am trying to focus equal attention on both. OK. That's all. Still much love. xoxox**

* * *

_You are the hole in my head; you are the space in my bed  
__You are the silence in between what I thought and what I said  
__You are the night time fear; you are the morning when it's clear  
__When it's over you'll start; you're my head, you're my heart  
__No light, no light in your bright blue eyes  
__I never knew daylight could be so violent  
__A revelation in the light of day  
__You can't choose what stays and what fades away  
__And I'd do anything to make you stay__  
_

-No Light No Light by Florence and the Machine

Kurt was laying on his back, stripped of his shirt, the firm muscles of his slender, smooth stomach heaving in and out rapidly as a head full of dark, curly hair kissed its way down his stomach, stopping just above the waistline of his briefs that were just visible above his skintight jeans.

"Oh…my…fuck…Blaine…" he muttered breathlessly, unable to stop his exasperatingly still-clothed hips from grinding up erratically into the other boy's stomach.

"Hold still Kurt," Blaine said, and even though his voice was muffled against Kurt's body, the huskiness of his voice mixed with his demanding tone made Kurt impossibly harder. Oh God, why had he ever denied himself this? This boy, his body, his lips were just…pure bliss. Ugh. He groaned in a mixture of frustration and wantonness and wound his fingers in the soft, black curls.

"God I want you so much," Kurt breathed, fisting his hands tighter in Blaine's hair, causing the football player to moan.

"You have me," Blaine whispered and Kurt felt the words stir in the pit of his stomach, though he knew they were only meant sexually and not that he _really_ had Blaine. Not that he even wanted him like that. Geez. Pull it together Kurt.

Blaine toyed with one of Kurt's nipples, twisting it gently and then leaning down to place his mouth on it. Kurt arched his back in pleasure as Blaine sucked the bud into his mouth, turning it into a hard mound before nipping at it playfully. The slight pain mixed with the pleasure of the experience caused Kurt's cock to grow even more insistent in his jeans. He wasn't used to being so submissive but with Blaine, everything was different, though he hated to admit it.

"Blaine…ugh…stop teasing…" He was barely able to get the words out between his heavy breathing and the involuntary undulating of his body.

"Teasing is half the fun," Blaine said with an evil grin as he turned his torturous attention to the other nipple. Kurt couldn't help but buck against him.

"Wow." Blaine pulled back and regarded the sweaty, desperate boy lying before him with a grin. "You want it so bad Hummel, admit it."

"Yeah. Fuck. I want it," Kurt admitted, panting, not even caring that he was making himself entirely submissive to Blaine with those three words.

"That's what I like to hear," Blaine said roughly as he continued licking at the pale skin above Kurt's waistband. The other boy's moans were making him hard as a diamond but he wanted to take care of Kurt first, show him that he was worth the time.

The two boys were stretched out on Kurt's double bed after school, Kurt's dad and stepmom being both at work and Finn being at his girlfriend Rachel's house. They had legitimately returned here with the intention of working on the community service project but the direction of their activities had changed very quickly when Blaine caught him in an unexpected kiss just inside the doorway. They had kissed passionately, groping each other and exploring each other, all the way down to Kurt's bedroom, where Kurt was now being caressed and passionately kissed by Blaine. Not that he was complaining.

"Where _is _Quinn right now?" he couldn't help but ask Blaine.

"Irrelevant," Blaine murmured, swiping his tongue into Kurt's ear. Kurt knew it was strange but he found the way Blaine was now tongue-fucking his ear incredibly erotic, teasing him, making him think of Blaine _actually_ fucking him. "Don't talk about her, you'll make me lose my boner," Blaine added.

"Pfft, and you still claim you're straight," Kurt said quietly with a mild laugh but his attempt at humor was quickly cut off as Blaine slipped his hand further down Kurt's stomach, tracing along the sweet, sexy fuzz of his happy trail and then finally, _finally_, sliding his hand beneath Kurt's briefs.

Kurt heard a whimper escape his throat as he felt the dry warmth of Blaine's hand surrounding his bare cock, already leaking with pre-cum. It wasn't that he hadn't been touched like this a million times before, but somehow with Blaine, it was different. The mere idea of Blaine touching him there was a turn-on, much less the actual act. He had no idea why though, and that thought concerned him.

"Take me Blaine…fuck me," he whispered heavily, his head so light and nearly drunk with arousal that he didn't even really know what he was saying.

"K-Kurt…" Blaine pulled his lips away from Kurt's stomach, his hand stilled atop his cock. "I…I'm sorry I just…I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"It's fine," Kurt said in desperation. "Just use your fingers."

Blaine's eyes turned almost black before Kurt's eyes. He yanked the boy's jeans and briefs down in one swift, violent motion which had Kurt impossibly turned on. Blaine seemed experienced. Kurt didn't _think_ he was, but he was still acting with the skill of someone who had some legitimate practice.

Blaine bent down and placed his mouth hesitantly in front of Kurt's exposed length so that Kurt could feel his breath ghosting over it. His cock twitched involuntarily.

"Please...please…" He heard himself begging but he honestly didn't even care. He needed it- needed _Blaine_- so badly right now and he didn't have the wherewithal to be ashamed.

"Patience," Blaine murmured and with that, he moved his perfect, plump lips to the head of Kurt's cock. He kissed the head of it tenderly, once, making Kurt moan, and then swirled his tongue around it teasingly, making Kurt hum and whine beneath him. Kurt still didn't even care to be embarrassed by his desperate behavior.

Blaine slid his one free hand down behind Kurt until he was gently cupping his ass, as his tongue still worked teasingly against his cock. He squeezed the cheek and Kurt moved to give him more access. Kurt was amazed at how talented Blaine continued to be, despite his rookie status at being with guys. He knew he had teased him constantly about being a virgin when it came to Quinn, but maybe he had been wrong. Either way, Blaine knew what he was doing and it was driving Kurt crazy. How could Blaine have this much control over him already?

Blaine now moved his mouth until he was on top of Kurt's thighs, each one lightly covered in hair. He kissed and lapped at them, moving down to the insides but never once interacting with Kurt's cock, causing the chestnut-haired singer to writhe beneath him.

"Touch me Blaine, for God's sakes, _touch me."_

Blaine merely laughed in a torturous way and continued licking languorous stripes up and down Kurt's inner thighs, finally reaching his balls. He sucked them into his mouth with a pop and Kurt felt his breath catch in the back of his throat. He moved his hands to Blaine's well-muscled, olive-skinned back, gripping his shoulder blades and feeling his muscles ripple beneath him.

"Come _on!" _Kurt moaned shamelessly, thrusting his hips violently up toward Blaine. Blaine finally gave in and flicked his tongue out quickly to let it tease along the slit at the tip of Kurt's cock. Kurt continued thrusting, his eyes nearly tearing up with desire. Blaine licked a long, wet strip down the underside of Kurt's cock, placing a hand on each hip to anchor him in place. Kurt found the restraint both infuriating and intoxicating. He tried to struggle against Blaine's hands, but the boy's fingers were too strong and the warmth of them as they left marks against Kurt's naked hips was more erotic than it should've been.

Blaine put his hand on the base of Kurt's cock and began to stroke, slowly, painfully.

"Is this hot enough for you Baby? Is this what you had in mind?"

"It's…so…so good…"Kurt murmured. Blaine smiled so widely, Kurt wondered how his grin could fit within the confines of his face. "But I- I need…more…" He couldn't even believe the pleading words that were escaping his mouth, but he needed it, he needed it so desperately.

Blaine didn't say anything; Kurt knew he wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to do.

"Here," Kurt rasped, taking hold of Blaine's right hand. "Wait. First, you're wearing far too many clothes for this to be fair."

He leaned his torso up, his abs tensing and giving Blaine quite a pleasant show as he grasped Blaine's long-sleeved button up and tugged it over his head unceremoniously, ruffling his curls as he did.

"I love these," he moaned, burying his head into Blaine's head, inhaling the scent of lavender and vanilla and a little hint of something spicy- was that patchouli? Whatever it was, it was a heady scent, making Kurt's head swim but not in an unpleasant way.

"And I…love…all of you," Blaine said between kisses trailed down Kurt's stomach.

Kurt felt his stomach twist at the statement. Blaine obviously didn't mean that he loved _him, _but it still sort of sounded like it. Whatever. It didn't matter. This was too good to stop it now.

He stretched out on the bed, his hands gripping so tightly onto the headboard behind him that his knuckles turned white.

"Come on, Baby," he begged with an encouraging stroke at Blaine's own hard-on that was bulging through his pants.

Blaine knew vaguely what he was supposed to do and he felt his hands trembling in both excitement and nervousness as he moved down towards the place behind Kurt's balls and let his hand begin to gently caress the space between his cheeks. The way Kurt instantly arched and moaned was more than enough encouragement for Blaine; he was clearly doing something right. He grew a little bolder, beginning to slide his fingers up and down between Kurt's crack, and finally spreading his cheeks wide, taking in the sight of his pink, puckered hole in all its glory.

Blaine drew in a deep breath, never having expected himself to be so turned on at the sight of a guy's asshole.

"Lay back," he whispered to Kurt, moving his head back up briefly to meet Kurt's lips in a sweet but passionate kiss.

Kurt did his best to relax, though someone being intimate with him in that place was something he hadn't allowed to happen for years. He felt Blaine's hot breath on his hole and he trembled. And then- oh God, oh dear sweet God, Blaine's mouth was there, he was _licking him_. Talk about a rookie; Kurt looked down and saw the curly head of dark hair between his legs, moving slightly as Blaine went to town vigorously on his asshole.

"Does this- does this feel okay?" he mumbled between laps.

"More than okay," Kurt breathed, barely able to get the words past his throat, he was shaking so badly.

Blaine took a larger risk then, forcing the velvet muscle of his tongue to tease the actual entrance until Kurt's entire body was thrashing in blissful agony and then, with one final push, shoving his tongue up and deep into the hole, massaging Kurt's insides with every bit of strength he had, taking pleasure in each small cry and whine that escaped the tall boy's mouth. He began to tongue-fuck him violently, letting his hands wander all up and down Kurt's chest, spending extra time on the boy's hardened nipples, dancing his fingers across his collarbone and down the sides of his ribcage until he reached his hips again.

"Blaine…good God you're a-amazing," Kurt uttered, grasping what flesh he could on Blaine's body tighter.

"I try," Blaine said through a smile, trying not to let Kurt know just how much those words actually meant to him. He had basically been smiling through this entire hook-up, from the moment the door to Kurt's bedroom had closed behind them, actually.

"Here," Kurt rasped after a while. "Use your fingers."

"O-oh-kay."

Kurt chuckled lightly at Blaine's obvious anxiety. He pulled the boy's strong hand to his mouth and began to suck on his middle three fingers. Blaine's eyes grew wide at the action and he wasn't sure entirely why, but he was completely aroused, more so than he could ever remember being turned on his entire life. He allowed Kurt to suck languidly on his fingers, pulling them deep into his mouth, licking them exhaustively, and then finally releasing them with a slow smile. Without saying anything, he brought Blaine's fingers down to his hole where his mouth had previously been. It was already dripping and ready with Blaine's own saliva.

"Slide one in," Kurt instructed, propping himself on his elbows slightly as he widened his legs so he could see what Blaine was doing. Blaine swallowed and pushed a finger into Kurt's hole. He felt the amazing stretch of the ring of muscle at the opening, the smooth inside that wrapped around his index so tight and hot. Why was this so erotic? It was only his finger. But the look on Kurt's face, the way his head was thrown back exposing the porcelain skin covering his unmarred throat, had Blaine going absolutely mad. He could only imagine what it would feel like to have his dick pressed up in that tight hole, drilling in and out of Kurt's slim, strong body, until he wept with pleasure.

Blaine couldn't help but be a little horrified at his own sordid thoughts but the way Kurt was thrusting against his finger made it hard to keep what he was thinking clean. Fuck it. He slid a second finger in and Kurt moaned loudly.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah- fuck- it's just…just been a while," Kurt told him while panting. "You can move them around."

Technically it was a suggestion but Blaine knew it was actually Kurt asking him to. He crooked the fingers he had inserted, probing around Kurt's silky insides, bending and twisting with a determination that surprised even him until suddenly, Kurt bucked up violently. The boy gasped and Blaine realized that his fingers had found that sacred spot- Kurt's prostate. He felt the grin creeping back onto his face and began massaging the bundle of nerves with confidence.

Kurt began thrusting forward, his eyes shut and breathing labored. The noises coming from him were unholy and most definitely the hottest thing Blaine had ever heard. He continued fingering Kurt and captured his lips in a surprise kiss.

"Add one more Blaine…oh…fuck…yes, Blaine, oh God, fuck me!" Kurt's eyes were still closed which was making Blaine crazy because he wanted to get lost in that aquamarine sea, but he still did as Kurt said and added a third finger. Kurt began to forcibly fuck himself on Blaine's fingers so that with every movement the fingers were kneading his prostate.

Without being told, Blaine slipped his lips over Kurt's glistening pink cock, licking at the tip like a delicious dessert that was all for him, each tease of his tongue and his fingers making Kurt's body respond in excitement.

"I can't fucking take it anymore," Kurt moaned, grabbing onto Blaine's curls as he hollowed out his cheeks and began sucking the boy off violently to lubricate him and then removed his mouth, so that one hand was working his hole and the other vigorously sliding up and down Kurt's cock.

He was enjoying watching Kurt come undone under the work of his hands. That big goofy grin was so insistent on his face that his cheeks hurt but he couldn't help himself. He felt more turned on right now, was having more fun right now, right here, with Kurt, than he had ever had with another person in his entire life. He suddenly had a wicked idea. He stilled the movements of his hands and leaned down to nibble at Kurt's earlobe tauntingly.

"Is this too much? Do you want me to stop?"

"Oh my God, no!" Kurt literally pushed his ass back towards Blaine's unmoving hand in desperation. "Keep going!"

"I don't know, it seemed like it might be a little too much for you there," Blaine said, biting his lip to keep his grin from becoming too obvious.

"Blaine Anderson you get back to work right now or I promise you, you _will _be punished and I don't joke about punishments."

"Punished?" Blaine raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound so bad." He looked his lips.

"Yeah well how about I tell your girlfriend about our little extracurricular activities?" Kurt questioned with a smirk of his own, leaning up to kiss Blaine eagerly, suppressing the shocked look that quickly appeared on Blaine's face.

"_Not_ funny," Blaine said pulling back from Kurt's kiss, but his hands returned to their former activities with all the more gusto, pumping Kurt's cock and stroking his prostrate until he felt the limber boy tense beneath him in what could only be a sign of a soon-to-come release.

"Harder, harder, Blaine, you're so hot, please harder," Kurt begged.

Blaine happily obliged and in moments, Kurt was shattering in ecstasy all over his own stomach as well as Blaine's. Blaine couldn't help but lean forward teasingly, as if to kiss Kurt on the mouth, but then suddenly pull back and instead lap the cum off of Kurt's still-trembling body.

"Oh sweet mother," Kurt murmured when he was in control of his voice again, his hands stroking gently through Blaine's hair, as Blaine rested his chin on Kurt's midriff, staring dreamily into the boy's spent eyes. "You are incredible. Are you sure you're new to this?"

Blaine shook his head in a dismissive manner. "Pretty new. I mean, you're the first guy I've ever been with."

"Mmm," Kurt hummed, tracing up and down the muscles of Blaine's back. "But what about girls. Have you ever had sex?"

"Uhm…" Blaine trailed off awkwardly, turning bright red all of a sudden. He really wasn't interested in discussing this topic but Kurt was looking at him in a manner that told him he wasn't going to get out of this.

"I don't really know," he answered truthfully.

Kurt frowned. "How is that even possible?"

"I don't know," Blaine said again, wishing Kurt would just leave it. To his great relief, the boy did, though the look of confusion on his face assured Blaine that this wouldn't be the last he would be hearing on the subject.

"You know what's funny?" Kurt asked, his hand having found its way back to Blaine's curls, which he couldn't help but run his fingers through over and over again. Blaine's eyes were closed, either in exhaustion, or because he was enjoying Kurt's caresses so much; Kurt wanted to believe the latter but chastised himself for his thoughts, knowing that Blaine's pleasure and him being the cause of it shouldn't really be something that mattered to him.

"Mmm?" Blaine replied nonchalantly.

Kurt was breaking his own rules but he felt he didn't even have control of his own body as he sat up, causing Blaine to shift along with him, and then reached one hand down beneath the boy until it found his still-throbbing cock.

"It's funny how you always get me off but I never return the favor," Kurt murmured seductively, thoroughly enjoying the way Blaine's eyes widened and darkened simultaneously.

"Y-you don't have t-to," he stammered in a manner which Kurt found adorable. _Adorable? What the flying fuck Hummel? Has all your presence of mind just gone entirely out the window?_

"I want to."

Blaine swallowed and closed his eyes and Kurt felt his stomach jump with excitement at the response he was getting from Blaine before he had barely begun to do anything to him yet.

No. No. This was too dangerous. He was enjoying this too much. And once Kurt went down on Blaine, the other boy would start to get attached, attached to the way Kurt made him feel, attached to the idea of them together, to the pleasure he had received from him. Kurt wanted desperately to avoid all that, no matter how badly he wanted to make Blaine fall apart. Actually, his desire to make Blaine fall apart was something he had rarely, if ever, experienced with his other tricks, and that was part of the reason why he knew he should avoid it so much.

"But, it's late," he declared, clearing his throat and stiffening his body ever-so-slightly to indicate to Blaine that playtime was over. The brief look of disappointment that crossed Blaine's features caused Kurt some regret but this was really for the best. For both of them.

"Another time," he reassured Blaine, allowing himself one more stroke of his fingers through Blaine's curls. Blaine smiled a small smile and then quickly extracted himself from Kurt's limbs, buttoning his jeans, throwing his shirt back on over his head, and trying to adjust his throbbing member so as to make its presence less obvious.

He stalked over to Kurt's vanity mirror and surveyed his appearance in it. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was a mess, but other than that, it wasn't _too_ obvious what he had just been doing. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it down some.

"Can I use your bathroom?" He asked Kurt.

"Sure," Kurt replied, not meeting his gaze, an expression of disinterest already masking his emotions. This was Kurt's very carefully calculated post-hook-up behavior and he relied on it in order to keep him and his partners safe from miscommunications, messy emotions and damaged feelings. He found it harder to compose himself where Blaine was concerned; he truly didn't want to hurt the boy, but once again, his own concern for Blaine was all the more reason to establish this cold distance.

Blaine shrugged off Kurt's taciturn behavior and walked to the bathroom where he splashed cold water on his face several times until he felt his cheeks begin to cool. Truth be told, he was uncomfortable with his emotions right now. He didn't understand why he enjoyed fooling around with Kurt Hummel so much and it disturbed him. He didn't understand either why it stung so much when Kurt refused to be reciprocal, or show any affection, or when he acted all aloof after they had been so completely _intimate_. Why on earth should Blaine care? He was a guy too. He was hooking up, with no strings attached. True, he wasn't getting off, but other than that, this arrangement was every guy's dream. So what the fuck was his problem.

He existed Kurt's bathroom, straightening his shirt as he did and also composing his features so that he seemed as cool and unaffected as Kurt.

"So…the project…"

"Yeah we'd better work on that later," Kurt told him. "I've got things to do tonight."

"Right," Blaine replied, his face deadpan, and he made his way towards Kurt's door, snatching up his skateboard along the way. "See you later then."

Kurt merely grunted in response.

But as soon as the door was closed and he the sounds of Blaine's footsteps trudging through the grass to go around front up to the sidewalk could be heard, he flung his body down on his bed like an emotional pre-teen girl and groaned in utter frustration. What was Blaine Anderson doing to him?

x-x-x-x-x-x

Blaine got on his skateboard as soon as reached the sidewalk in front of Kurt's house and began making his way home. It was starting to get chilly out; it was already turning to dusk outside and soon it would be too cold for Blaine to use his skateboard every day. He wondered absentmindedly if he could push his parents on that car they had promised him. Of course, his mom hadn't exactly been thrilled with him lately. But maybe if he did really well in this Friday's game, his mom would give it to him as a reward.

He allowed his thoughts to continue along this path as he found himself on his street and then, all to soon, walking up the pathway to his house. He didn't want to think about Kurt or the things they did or the way it all made him feel- so good during and so empty afterwards.

He opened the door to find his home eerily silent. The lights were dim and he had seen his mother's car in the driveway, which meant she was here, but he heard no movement. Perhaps, if he was lucky, she was passed out in bed with a glass of wine in front of a soap opera.

He walked to the kitchen to find a snack when suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He turned around warily.

His mother stood in the entryway.

"Blaine, sweetie, why don't you come to the sitting room?" She held a glass of wine that perfectly matched the shade of her lipstick and Blaine felt himself breaking out in something of a cold sweat. He was definitely in trouble, that much was certain.

The "sitting room" was just a tiny little room off the dining room that was originally intended more for storage than anything else, but Helena Anderson tried desperately to make it seem as though her house was just as fancy and nice as any other rich person's, as nice as their home back in Westerville. She was only lying to herself, but no one was able to get the truth through to her, nor did they really try.

Blaine followed his mother dutifully but couldn't help but question her as they walked. "What do you want Mom?"

His mother only waved her hand at him to shush him and when they entered the room, it all became clear to Blaine.

There was Quinn, sitting there primly, legs crossed beneath a white lace dress that she had paired with a jean jacket, her lips pursed in annoyance and her blonde hair layered perfectly down her shoulders.

"Quinn?" Blaine asked tentatively, wondering what on earth she was doing here and what she and his mother had been discussing.

"Blaine," his mother spoke, rather than his girlfriend. "Quinn and I have been speaking. It seems you have some explaining to do."

_About what? _Blaine racked his mind frantically. There were a million and one things they could be pissed at him for and he had no idea which one it was. He was a little bit terrified.

Quinn saw his uncertainty. "You've been lying to us Blaine."

"Lying?"

"About your whereabouts. For example. After football practice, where do you go? Because it's certainly not to the community center to tutor, like you told me."

Blaine swallowed heavily. Oh God, that was a lie he had fed Quinn to keep her off his case about spending time with her. How much had she told his mom?

"I- I did lie to you." Blaine had a plan and he wasn't proud of it, but it was the only way he could see to rescue himself.

His mother looked at him, horrified, while Quinn simply nodded, unsurprised.

"I'll explain," he added quickly.

"You had certainly better," his mother said.

"I _have _had to do community service work, on account of the fight I got into."

"What?" his mother looked at him in anger. "You never told me they were making you do community service-"

"Please." Blaine held up a hand. "Let me finish. I _am _working on a community service project, but it's not tutoring at the community center. The truth is, the principle thinks that because me and Kurt were fighting, we need to learn how to interact positively. So we were assigned a community service project together."

The horror was evident on both women's faces now. Working together _with _Kurt Hummel? The horror of it!

"Blaine Anderson, if you had actually thought to _tell_ your mother something about your life for once, I could've gotten you out of this. I ought to call your principle right now and demand this project be terminated. To think they've been forcing you to work with that faggy boy- it's disgusting. Honestly, it can't be legal. I don't know why you didn't tell me!"

"I was ashamed," Blaine lied and hung his head for effect. "I didn't want anyone to know I was spending time with him." He bit his lip, hating himself for what he was saying, but unable to think of any other way.

"And no one would blame you for that Baby," Quinn said, moving towards him and rubbing his shoulders soothingly. "I can't believe Figgins."

"I'm going to call the man right now!" His mother said.

"No!" Blaine yelled, a little two quickly. They both looked at him, startled.

"Don't- don't call Figgins. I mean, it'll just make it a way bigger deal and then word will get out around school in seconds. If I just finish it up, it'll go away and no one will ever have to do. It's almost over with."

His mother stared at him contemplatively, a look of slight suspicion spreading across her features.

"Are you sure about this Blaine?"

"Yes. Please. I don't want everyone finding out. It's better this way."

"Fine," Quinn acquiesced. "But if that little faggot makes _one_ move on my man, you better believe I'll have him expelled for perversion and sexual harassment in three seconds flat."

His mother nodded her agreement. "Thank God you're around Quinn. Blaine honestly needs a girl with some sense in her brain, he's got his head in the clouds so much of the time."

"Oh it's my pleasure Mrs. Anderson. You don't have to worry about Blaine. I only have his best concerns at heart. I want him to do well just as much as you do."

Blaine wanted to vomit at the way they were talking about him, like he wasn't even there, and at the way they had spoken about Kurt.

"Well actually, I'm going to need a shower," Blaine said in an attempt to excuse himself.

His mother frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm filthy."

Quinn nodded. "You really honestly need to wash up after hanging out with that gay kid anyway."

Blaine clenched his fists in anger but said nothing.

"Well be quick Dear, Quinn's staying for dinner and it will be ready soon."

Blaine nodded his head, trying not to let his disappointment at this turn of events be visible on his face.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Kurt was in his bed, the same place where he had spent the afternoon with Blaine, only this time, there was another boy beside him. The boy was skinny and tall, much like Kurt, though slightly less muscled and with a colder, more weaselly look to his face.

Sebastian was a trick whom Kurt had met at the only gay bar for miles, Scandals. They had hit it off fairly quickly, both being confident for their young ages and both looking for the same thing; a good, regular fuck with no emotional ties. Truth be told, Kurt couldn't stand Sebastian's personality. He was whiny and manipulative and just overall a scummy kind of gay- never someone Kurt would actually date. But he was there when Kurt needed him and better yet, he submitted to Kurt, which Kurt loved. He knew Sebastian was typically the more dominant one and it felt good to know that he had some sort of power over even an asshole like this. The sex was fairly decent too. So Kurt kept him around.

"God Kurt," Sebastian said from where he was lying next to Kurt, lazily stroking his cock. "It's like I'm boring you or something."

"What?" Kurt asked distractedly. It was true his thoughts had been elsewhere, and in this case, elsewhere meant Blaine.

"Look if you're not into this, I can get going. I've got other guys who I'm sure would just be dying…"

Kurt cut Sebastian off with a swift movement of his body so that he was suddenly on top of Sebastian, the gangly boy flat on his back and pinned to the bed by Kurt's surprisingly strong arms.

"You want to leave?" Kurt asked in an almost threatening tone.

"N-no," Sebastian practically moaned. "I was just saying you s-seemed distracted…"

Kurt yanked at the front of Sebastian's chinos, popping them open and tearing them off. He then leaned forward and bit the waistband of the boys white navy blue boxer briefs, peeling them off of his skin with his teeth. Without warning, he pushed Sebastian's legs apart and began fingering him aggressively.

"Distracted?" He repeated, searching deep into Sebastian's green eyes. "Is that how I seemed?"

"Yes…oh God Kurt! More!" Sebastian moaned again and tried to fuck himself on Kurt's fingers, his voice having raised several octaves. Kurt found himself annoyed, as he often was by Sebastian's pathetic begging, but the best way to get over someone was to get under someone else, didn't they say? And it appeared that stupid Blaine was taking up far too much of Kurt's thoughts. So fucking Sebastian was the best answer.

He flipped the other boy over so that Sebastian lay with his belly on the mattress and began spanking his slender ass, using his other to press Sebastian's head down into the sheets.

"Is this what you wanted Baby? Is this enough for you?"

Sebastian simply groaned, unable to talk with his mouth pressed into the bed.

"Mmm I can't hear you." Kurt loved torturing this guy. He deserved it. Sometimes it concerned Kurt, how dark and sadistic he could get, but he told himself it was entirely normal to be this way. He wasn't nearly as bad as he'd heard some people were with their fetishes.

"This is what I wanted!" Sebastian struggled to yell, muffled by the fabric, as Kurt roughly fucked into him with his fingers.

Finally Kurt had had enough. He pulled his fingers out and replaced them instantly with his throbbing cock, not really caring to be gentle. He shoved in roughly and then pulled out. Sebastian screaming in a combination of pain and pleasure with every thrust. Kurt increased the speed of his rhythm, trying not to think about Sebastian or Blaine or anything at all really, just sex, and getting what he wanted. He fucked harder, deeper, faster, not even hearing Sebastian yelling his name or crying out as he pounded his prostate again and again and again. Kurt's mind was a white blank screen and he had one goal in mind. Within a few minutes, he was coming inside the other boy.

He pulled out as soon as he was finished, tied the condom off, and flung it into the wastebasket.

"When did you put a condom on?" Sebastian asked, when he had caught his breath again. He had rolled onto his side, not trusting his sore ass to lie flat against the bed.

Kurt smirked. "I've got my ways."

"God you're so smooth," Sebastian said with a light chuckle, caressing the sides of Kurt's biceps up and down with his hands. Kurt stiffened slightly and Sebastian stilled his movements.

"Have you ever thought about bare-backing?" Sebastian's voice was timid but it was clear he expected an answer.

"Honestly Sebastian, I'm not really into that," Kurt replied awkwardly. "It's just- too risky."

Sebastian nodded and said nothing for a while. Kurt wished he would get the hint and leave. Instead he asked, "Do you ever fuck _him_ bareback?"

"Excuse me?" Kurt asked, entirely unsure what Sebastian was referring to.

"You know that guy. The one you're fucking now. Don't try and pretend he doesn't exist. I have friends who go to McKinley and say you two are together all the time now. And you hardly ever ask me over anymore. That other fucker is always here. God, he doesn't even have a _car_ Kurt!"

"I don't know who you're talking to, but I'm not fucking anyone from McKinley."

"Don't lie to me!" Sebastian was getting almost hysterical, his voice raising to the point where Kurt began to panic, lest Carole and Burt overhear. "He was here today, I know he was. I can smell him all over you!"

"Why don't you just calm down?" Kurt said and Sebastian fell back against the pillows at Kurt's suggestion, heaving a sigh of frustration.

"I just don't get it Kurt. What your fucking weakness is for these pretty little jock boys who pretend to be straight. They fuck you over every time and you _still _keep coming back. They're like some sort of goddamn drug to you!"

Kurt just sighed without saying anything, running a hand through his already mussed hair.

"Kurt." Sebastian's voice had turned whiny. "Kurt why don't you just date me? I'm out, I'm confident and I'm hot too. You'd never have to worry about teaching me the ropes or me making fun of you or leaving you. I'd be your slave."

Kurt bit his lip. Sebastian knew how hard it was for him to resist that kind of submission; it was so goddamn sexy. But Sebastian wasn't what he wanted, especially not when he felt the way he did about Blaine. It was sort of like Sebastian was right; Blaine was a drug. And Kurt had certainly not gotten his fill yet. No, he certainly didn't have _feelings_ for Blaine but he still wanted to fuck that boy until he screamed. Yes, he certainly wasn't going to be settling down here in Ohio. Wasn't that the whole point? No ties. Perhaps it was time to cut Sebastian off. He had fucked him several times which was more than he usually did with anybody. It seemed the boy was getting too attached. Kurt couldn't have that.

"Sebastian…" He sighed. The break up speech was always so uncomfortable.

"Look. You know how I feel about you. I think you're great. You're sexy and you're out, you're talented, you know what you want. All wonderful things. But you know I'm not interested in getting a boyfriend. I need to keep things casual."

"Kurt I-"

"I don't think we should see each other anymore."

Sebastian looked at him, his eyes so deeply shocked and wounded that Kurt almost felt bad. Almost.

"I don't- I don't understand why. What did I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything. It's just- this thing has run its course okay? We both knew it wasn't forever."

"That doesn't mean it has to be over right now," Sebastian whined, clinging to Kurt's body.

"Yes. It does," Kurt replied coldly, disentangling himself from the needy boy. "We're done Sebastian."

"You know what, they told me you were like this. That you just use guys and you dump them, leaving a trail of broken hearts and fucked up guys behind you. I thought they were just jealous of me, I thought that they were judging you too harshly. I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I was so fucking wrong." Sebastian was pulling on his pants, crying as he spat the words at Kurt. Kurt wasn't listening too hard. He had heard the speech before.

"Is it that other guy?"

This caught Kurt by surprise. "No it's not the other guy. I just said, I don't do relationships."

"Well whatever you two have seems like something awfully relationshippy."

"Fuck off and stop being so paranoid," Kurt said, but really, it was he who was paranoid. He felt nervous just having this conversation. How did Sebastian know? How could he tell? Were Kurt's feelings that obvious?

"You know what Kurt? Fine. I'm out of here. But just know that this- this _Blaine _guy that you're so into? I'm going to find him Kurt. And I am going to fuck his pretty ass until he screams my name. You're not the only one who can chase after straight boys." And Sebastian was gone, escaped through the back door, no trace of his being there left behind, almost as he had never been there at all. It was like so many guys before him, and yet Kurt never got used to the strange feeling of emptiness it left.

More than that, he couldn't help but dwell on Sebastian's words. Sebastian fuck Blaine? Impossible. Blaine would never go for that, that is, _if_ Sebastian could ever even find him. It was just crazy talk coming from a jealous, rejected trick. Sebastian wasn't touching Blaine. Nobody was, nobody but Kurt, if he had any say at all in the matter.


	13. Don't You Worry Child

**A/N: OK don't give me _too _much crap because it's finals week so I'm doing the very best I can. I promise no abandonment of this story will happen. It devastates me when writers do that and I refuse to be one of them. I go home next week and have a bit of free time before work starts so things will pick up then. I have to apologize because I really don't know where this story is going. Every chapter is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you. But hopefully it's interesting. Also, if you've reviewed and I haven't responded, I'm sorry, but I promise I will! Keep reviewing! :] xoxox**

**Quickly, I want to respond here to my two most recent guest reviewers:**

**1. The Sebastian comment- Haha, so spot on! He's meant to be pretty gross, so I guess it's a good thing you thought so. This is not a Sebklaine kinda fic. Sebastian is in no way meant to be portrayed in an attractive or desirable light. He's slimy.**

**2. [The reviewer who commented on Chapter 3]- Your comment was seriously probably one of my favorite comments ever. I was seriously incredibly flattered. I guess I'm hoping that as I trudge along, more people will gain interest, but even if that doesn't happen, the few who are here make it worth it. And also, as for pacing _thank you_. I'm trying to make it happen a bit slowly too. I don't like how unrealistically fast it often seems to happen and while it's killing me to draw it out, I think the reward is better in the end. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint in that regard. I think it's pretty clear at the end that while they are beginning to grow closer, they still sort kinda hate each other at the same time. Trying to find a good balance between gratification and drawing it out is so hard. But as I said, I promise, no abandonment will happen! No way. Thank you again. Happy reading!**

**P.S. Any and all of your reviews make my day. :D**

* * *

_There was a time, I used to look into my father's eyes  
In a happy home, I was a king, I had a gold throne  
Those days are gone; now the memory's on the wall  
__I hear the songs from the places where I was born  
__Upon the hill across the blue lake, that's where I had my first heartbreak  
__I still remember how it all changed; My father said  
_"_Don't you worry, don't you worry, Child  
__See heaven's got a plan for you  
__Don't you worry, don't you worry now"__  
_

-Don't You Worry Child by Swedish House Mafia

Blaine's head had been in turmoil for the past several days. His "relationship" with Kurt, if you could even call it that, which you couldn't, really, was honestly much more taxing than he ever would've thought it would be. He liked their time together, more than he was willing to dwell on, but he didn't know what that meant, and every time they were together, he left feeling confused and unsure and not necessarily good about himself. Kurt had kept pretty true to most of the "rules" that he had set up for them; he kept their interactions strictly cool and professional except for when they were hooking up and even then, he tried not to allow things to get too friendly. Which infuriated Blaine sometimes, actually, because how could a person be so detached and callous while doing the most _intimate _of activities possible? It was just ridiculous. There would be moments when Blaine would see just a glimpse of Kurt's inner self shining through, brief seconds of vulnerability and truth that would flash through his eyes, but then in all the time that it took for Blaine to even recognize it, it would be gone again.

Blaine hated it. But at the same time that it frustrated him that Kurt refused to open up, he was glad of it too. Because with all that armor on, there was no way Blaine could develop any feelings for Kurt. And that- that would just be unspeakably terrible. So in the end, he was really actually grateful.

Still, he had to acknowledge the fact that it was a fucked up little arrangement they had, and instead of satiating his sex drive, it was honestly making him more and more horny. Kurt wasn't exactly generous in bed, which was oddly okay with Blaine because he _liked_ giving Kurt that pleasure, even if he received none of it himself. But a guy still had needs and Blaine's were growing by the day. Not to mention the complicated tangled mess that were his current emotions. He needed an outlet. A non-sexual one.

And that was when he remembered the music books.

It felt like so long ago that he had gotten to school early, just to try and sneak into the choir room and see if anything from his grandmother's piano lessons had stuck, but had ended up meeting Kurt instead. He was glad he had ended up meeting Kurt- well he _thought_ he was glad anyway, but he still wanted to see if the piano was something that he should maybe explore again. It might do him some good. He was much more artistic and soulful than people tended to give him credit for. He wasn't a guy who could live off of sex, alcohol and football. He needed to feel like he was being creative. And now seemed like the perfect time to try and discover that again.

So, after football practice one afternoon, Blaine snuck from the locker rooms into the choir room. It was empty, Glee practice having fortunately already ended. He walked over to the piano tentatively.

The silence in the room felt overwhelming and thick and Blaine felt almost like he were trespassing somewhere sacred. He licked his lips nervously and wiped his sweaty palms on the front of his jeans. Reverently, he lowered his fingers so that they were resting on top of the keys. He allowed his fingers to dance along the tops of the keys lightly, not pressing down or making any sound, just allowing himself to feel them. As soon as he touched though, he realized his fingers were aching to play. Without even fully realizing it, he was suddenly sitting down on the bench, fully allowing himself to settle at the instrument. And his fingers, his fingers were pressing down and beginning to stumble through something, a sad classical song that his grandmother had taught him. He was amazed at his body's own muscle memory and the way that the song got smoother as he continued to play, him losing himself so much in the melody that he closed his eyes and no longer even watched his hands. God, he had missed this.

"Please tell me you have a voice to accompany that technique," a voice came from the doorway, startling Blaine so much that he nearly fell backwards off the bench.

It was the history teacher, Mr. Schuester, whom was pretty popular among students, and the very proud and devoted coach of the Glee club.

"Uhm, I d-don't really know," Blaine stammered. "I'm sorry about using your piano."

"Don't worry about it," Mr. Schuester said, grinning at Blaine. "That was the most passionate rendition of the first movement of Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata _that I've heard in years. You can't just make up that kind of passion. It's a gift."

Mr. Schue walked in toward Blaine and leaned against the edge of the piano. "I know who you are. You're Blaine Anderson. You transferred here a couple years ago, you get good grades, date the head cheerleader and are on the football team. Am I correct?"

Blaine shrugged. "Those are the facts, I suppose."

"Exactly," Shue said, staring hard at Blaine. "Those are the facts. But my guess is that there's a _lot_ more to you than just the facts. And it's an awful shame that you're letting all of it go to waste and not using it for anything."

"Who says I'm not using it for anything?" Blaine was suddenly defensive.

"I know guys like you Blaine. You've got all sorts of expectations on you, coming at you from every side. And you don't know what to do with it all, so you give in. You become who they want you to become. And you lose yourself in the process. You lose who you truly are." Mr. Schue paused for a moment, noting how Blaine wouldn't look him in the eye but only stared down at the keys in front of him; the words were hitting home. "But you can at least give your dreams a try before you throw them all away. If you love music, try music. See where it takes you. Maybe you'll find you're not interested and want to go back to how things were. But you have to at least give it a try."

Blaine wouldn't look at him because he was stupidly afraid that he might start tearing up. It felt like he had been going along unnoticed by everyone for so long and now this man had waltzed in and seen him more clearly in moments than anyone had been able to in years. He was so tempted to listen to him, so tempted to believe that he could have this.

"Here Blaine," Mr. Schue said, realizing that the boy was going to need a lot of nudging in the right direction if they were going to get anywhere. "I'm going to play a song right now, one you probably know, and you just jump in and start singing when it feels right."

Blaine nodded numbly and got up to switch places with Mr. Schuester so that he was now leaning weakly against the piano while the history teacher sat with fingers poised against the keys. All too quickly he began to play, something soft, something sweet and haunting, a song that Blaine _did_ know well. Blaine couldn't help but begin to mumble the lyrics but as the emotion built, so did his voice and it wasn't long before he was pouring himself into it, not caring at all that he had an audience.

_And I'd give up forever to touch you  
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
And I don't wanna go home right now  
And all I can taste is this moment  
And all I can breathe is your life  
And sooner or later it's over  
I just don't wanna miss you tonight  
__And I don't want the world to see me  
__Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
__When everything's made to broken  
__I just want you to know who I am__  
_

Blaine moved flawlessly into the next verse and then repeated the chorus a few times, each time more achingly fervent than the last. When the song was over, he felt spent, but so incredibly fulfilled and contented. Still, Mr. Schuester's next words shocked him.

"That was everything I hoped it'd be and more. Now you just have to do that in rehearsal tomorrow afternoon."

"What?" Blaine choked.

"Oh you can pick your own song. Just get the sheet music so the band has something to work off of. I'll expect to see you there, 3 o'clock sharp. And don't try to tell me you have football practice because I _know _you don't; it's due to my special arrangement with Coach Beiste which makes Thursdays a practice-free day so that football players can be in Glee."

He stood up and clapped Blaine on the shoulder, who was still unable to form words after everything that had just happened.

"You have nothing to be nervous about. Everyone there is gonna love you."

Blaine just stared after him, watching him go. He didn't know how he had just gotten himself into this situation, but he couldn't help but admit there was a tiny bubble of excitement [mixed with nerves and loathing and regret of course] forming in the pit of his stomach.

x-x-x-x-x-x

The next day was ushered in by gray sheets of rain, making it so that Blaine had to get a ride to school. His mother pawned the job off on his dad, who agreed in his usual congenial manner, never willing to do anything that might upset Helena. The man had been trained well over the years.

In the car Blaine fiddled with the radio until he landed on a station of classic rock that he knew his dad would probably recognize, if not appreciate.

"Wow," his dad said, chuckling softly over the steering wheel. "Is this what the kids still listen to these days?"

Blaine shrugged awkwardly. His dad was nice, but he never really knew what to say to him. He was always sort of expecting the man to flip out at it like his mom did, but he never did it. Instead, he usually said nothing, just walked around with this sort of sad, tired look on his face.

"Some kids, yeah. Classic rock never really went out of style."

Blaine's dad hummed appreciatively. "I used to absolutely be obsessed with this stuff when I was a kid. Had all the records, even made it to some of the concerts. It was pretty wild. God, I loved those days."

Blaine just nodded, unsure of what he should say.

"I basically stopped listening to all of this stuff around the time I met your mother. Really had to clean up my act if I was going to get her to date me, you know? I cut my hair, sold my eight tracks, all of it."

"But why?" Blaine asked without thinking. As far as he was concerned, his mother was a witch from hell. Why anyone like his dad would try to bend over backwards to please her was beyond him.

His dad laughed softly, surprisingly unoffended by Blaine's question, as if he understood. "Because I loved her," he explained simply. "I know your mom can be a bit much at times, and I have to admit…things aren't like they used to be. But even when she gets crazy or angry or things just don't seem worth it anymore, I remind myself of how I used to feel. I remind myself of how it was when we were newlyweds. And that makes everything worth it."

Blaine couldn't fathom his mother ever being a young and in love newlywed, but he guessed he could see where his dad was coming from. Sort of. He hadn't ever been in love but he heard it made people do crazy things. It made him blame his father a little bit less.

"Got anything exciting at school today?" His dad changed the subject.

"Uhm…" Blaine wondered whether he should tell his dad about the Glee audition. He didn't think the man would really care, but he was looking over at Blaine like he was genuinely interested so Blaine thought, why the hell not.

"I actually…have an audition for the school's Glee Club," he said awkwardly.

"Glee Club! They still have those?"

"Yes Sir."

"Man. I used to…well I was never _in _Glee Club. But I always secretly wanted to be. Could just never get my act together enough." He looked at Blaine. "Is this something you've always wanted to do?"

"To be honest, I never thought about it much. But the choir teacher asked me to audition."

His dad smiled. "Well you do have a voice. Don't think I haven't heard you in the shower. Plus, if my intuition's correct, you probably inherited some of your grandma's musical abilities too."

They had pulled up at the school and Blaine was eager to get out. The conversation with his dad had been unexpected and nice, and that was making him uncomfortable, like the man must have some ulterior motive or something.

"Blaine!" his father called to him as he jumped from the front seat and headed toward the swarm of kids moving in through the front door.

Blaine turned back to his father expectantly, shouldering his backpack with one hand gripping the strap.

"Knock 'em dead." His father smiled and Blaine couldn't help but smile too. He turned around and headed back toward the school, ignoring the ominous raindrops that were dampening his carefully-gelled hair, because his dad had said something _nice_ to him. Hell, it almost seemed like his dad had some sort of _faith_ in his abilities.

"Well that was a precious exchange," a voice half-sneered beside him and Blaine nearly jumped a foot to find Kurt standing there.

"None of your business," Blaine reminded him.

"I know. I'm just commenting. But I'm not actually here for small-talk."

"Oh really? That's a surprise."

"Shut up," Kurt said, but there was a hint of playfulness to it. "I know you don't have football practice Thursdays and I need…_we_ need to work on the community service project. Code red."

Blaine blushed embarrassingly but tried to keep his face a mask.

"Can't."

"Excuse me?" Kurt's voice was one of disbelief.

"I have a thing after school."

"A thing?" Kurt narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, a thing, a thing that has nothing to do with you, so if you don't mind please, I'll have to take a rain check on your oh-so-generous offer." Blaine turned to go to his locker.

Kurt wanted very much to run after him, to pin him against the locker and make him tell the truth about what he was doing after school. What if he was fucking Quinn? Or worse, _Sebastian? _There was no way the boy could've gotten to him that quickly right? Plus, Blaine wasn't exactly slutty, nor was he "gay". So Kurt had nothing to worry about with Sebastian. Theoretically.

He knew he shouldn't be thinking like this but the entire idea of Blaine having plans, plans that might involve fucking around with someone who wasn't _him_, made him crazy. He had to find out what Blaine was doing after school, if it killed him.

x-x-x-x-x-x

The day passed much too quickly for Blaine, who was incredibly nervous for his Glee audition, even though he knew he would be accepted regardless of what happened, and that Mr. Schue had already heard him sing and approved.

Maybe it was because auditioning for Glee was such a risky thing for someone like Blaine to do. He was much too popular to be in Glee Club. When Finn Hudson had joined, the rest of the football team had made his life a living hell for a while. Once word got around about Blaine's trying out, there'd be no end of it, not only from the football team, but especially from his girlfriend and his mother. He could lose his social status completely.

But Blaine had a feeling he was a bit more nervous about singing in front of all those kids, who were already all so close, and clearly so talented. They didn't get anxious about performances and they were sure to tear Blaine, the newbie, to pieces. Not to mention they probably already didn't like him very much because he was a part of the popular group; automatically their nemesis.

And the scary fact of it was that Blaine _wanted_ to fit in with this group; he actually cared about his audition and how they reacted to him. This, stupidly, meant something to him. He wanted it to go well.

In what seemed like a mere fifteen minutes later had Blaine standing in front of a entire classroom full of misfits and freaks, albeit talented misfits and freaks, nervously tugging on the hem of his shirt, which he already stretched out to an almost shapeless state what with all the nerves building up all day.

Picturing the classroom naked didn't help either. It was mean, but he felt like most of the Glee kids would be better off keeping their clothes _on_. Nudity had never been something Blaine had been all that comfortable with in the first place, even if it was the supposedly good kind of nudity.

He had already given the sheet music to the band, like Schue requested. The blank eyes were all staring at him, waiting for something. Waiting for _him_, he realized with slight panic. Waiting for him to sing to them, wow them somehow. Good God, why had he ever allowed himself to get into this situation? Fuck it. It didn't matter what they thought. They were nobodies anyway.

And with that unforgiving thought, Blaine clenched his hands, steeled his nerves and nodded to the band. And then, the music began, and suddenly, he was singing. Without even really trying, the words were just flowing from his mouth. And it felt good. It felt _right._

_I am a question to the world, not an answer to be heard  
Or a moment that's held in your arms  
And what do you think you'd ever say  
I won't listen anyway  
You don't know me, and I'll never be what you want me to be  
And what, do you think you'd understand  
I'm a boy, no, I'm a man  
You can't take me and throw me away  
And how can your learn what's never shown  
Yeah, you stand here on your own  
They don't know me, cause I'm not here_

At this point, the class seemed to be getting really into the song, smiles creeping onto their faces, and Blaine was getting into it to. He loved this song, loved the emotion building in it, its simple truth, and most of all loved watching the reactions of the other kids in Glee Club as he sang, getting more theatrical and impassioned with every verse.

_And I want a moment to be real,  
Wanna touch things I don't feel, wanna hold on and feel I belong  
__And how can the world want me to change  
__They're the ones who stay the same  
__They don't know me, cause I'm not here__  
_

He began to move, getting right up close in their faces, singing actually _to _them, his voice coming out deep and growly and husky on that last line there and they were all responding, dancing and moving along to the beat, grinning at him as he poured his emotion into the words and gestured emphatically.

_And you see things they never see  
__All you wanted- I could be  
__Now you know me, and I'm not afraid  
__And I want to tell you who I am  
__Can you help me be a man  
__They can't break me as long as I know who I am  
__And how can the world want me to change  
__They're the ones who stay the same  
__They can't see me, but I'm still here  
__They can't tell me who to be  
__Cause I'm not what they see  
__Yeah, the world is still sleepin' while I keep on dreaming for me  
__And their words are just whispers and lies that I'll never believe__  
_

Blaine finished the song, feeling a tear threaten at the corner of his eye, which infuriated him. He swiped at the back of his eyes roughly, clearing his throat and releasing a gust of air he hadn't known he had been holding in.

And then, slowly, they started clapping, even cheering and whistling. Blaine glanced at Mr. Schue; the man was beaming.

"I think it's fair to say everyone more than approved of your performance," he said proudly.

"Dude, if I had known you could sing like that, I would've recruited you ages ago," Finn piped up.

"Dude, I'm glad you've joined Glee, but you realize your popularity's totally gonna tank now, right?" Puck said.

Blaine nodded. "I guess I don't care so much about that."

"Well that's the right kind of attitude to have!" Mr. Schuester said in a cheerful tone. "Blaine, can I ask you what made you choose that song?"

Blaine flushed a little. The song was from the movie _Treasure Planet_, one of Disney's most underrated films in Blaine's opinion. He had picked it because he had always loved that song. He felt that it wasn't too mainstream where people would be bored by it but was relatable enough and intense enough where he could show off his voice and relay all the passion behind it so hopefully the other Glee kids could connect. And he really felt something behind that song. He always had. It used to make him tear up when it'd come on during the movie. He would never admit that, though.

"I think, sometimes…it kinda sums up my life," he said awkwardly.

Mr. Schue nodded sympathetically and the other Glee kids were all viewing him with similar expressions. Great. Now he had their pity. That was the last thing he wanted.

"Alright well I really have to go…" he began before Schue stepped in. "Yes. Practice is over for the day. Blaine, that was spectacular, and I expect to see you here next Thursday at 3, with a song prepared for this week's assignment, which is songs about love. Basically, find a romantic song that sums up your current feelings the best. It can be a breakup song, a song about feelings that are unrequited or whatever. As long as romance is the theme. That's all," Mr. Schue smiled that familiar grin as if the task he had just given Blaine wasn't actually the most incredibly hard thing anyone had ever asked him to do. He at this point in his life had never had less of an idea about how he felt, romantically. Glee Club was going to be so much more difficult than he thought.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Kurt had heard Blaine's entire performance and to say he was impressed would be an understatement. More like, he was blown away, completely and entirely. Blaine knew Kurt could sing of course, from that day he had accidentally walked in on him at the piano. But Blaine had _never_ hinted to Kurt that he had any musical talent of his own. Kurt was shocked. Not that it was so unfathomable that Blaine could have talent; he was obviously very talented at many things, hence his popularity. But to have an artistic streak like this too? It almost wasn't fair. Kurt might've been jealous if he wasn't first of all, simply relieved that Blaine hadn't been blowing him off to hook up with someone else, and second of all, utterly turned on.

More turned on than he could ever remember being in his entire life, actually.

So when the choir room finally emptied out, leaving Blaine alone, sitting at the piano bench and tinkering awkwardly at the piano, lost deep in thought, Kurt pounced.

Blaine didn't notice the sound of the door clicking softly closed in the corner, but he did notice when suddenly somebody's strong arms wrapped around his chest from behind, and there was suddenly warm breath tickling his ear, the smell alone of peppermint shampoo and lemon face wash, mixed with a hint of cigarette smoke making Blaine get a semi.

"Why didn't you tell me you were auditioning for Glee Club?" Kurt breathed into the velvet curve of Blaine's ear.

"We aren't supposed to talk about our personal lives," Blaine muttered, trying hard to keep his wits about him despite his uncomfortable arousal.

"Yes, but this is- different. School related. You could've told me."

"I didn't think you'd want to know," Blaine exhaled as Kurt's hands began a dangerous path down over his chest, grazing over his nipples through his shirt, turning them to stone with just a brush through fabric. It would've been embarrassing if it wasn't so fucking _hot_.

"Well I did want to know. And I'm glad I was able to catch the performance. Seeing you sing like that was…arousing," Kurt said, pressing his stiff erection into Blaine's back to prove his point as he kissed slowly and delicately behind Blaine's ear.

Blaine turned around almost automatically and began tugging at the button on the front of Kurt's incredibly tight jeans, laving at the skin just below his navel roughly as he did so.

Kurt threw his head back for a moment, letting himself surrender to the pleasure, before suddenly remembering something.

"No, nope. Not today," he said, taking Blaine's hands in his own to stop him from continuing to remove his pants.

"What then? If you don't want me to blow you, why are you here?" Blaine asked, genuine confusion spreading across his face. His hands were still entwined with Kurt's, and that in itself was odd.

"Today is about you," Kurt breathed in a voice so low and full of desire that it was actually husky. Blaine felt his cock twitch. Was Kurt finally going to give- no. It couldn't be.

Kurt noticed Blaine's confusion and tried to explain. "That song…you singing…it was…" he gave up on words then and fiercely yanked Blaine up into a standing position from where he was sitting on the piano bench, tugging him by his gelled curls so that their mouths could meet in a desperate kiss. "Fuck Blaine," Kurt moaned, and the sound of Blaine's own name coming from Kurt's lips that way was all it ever took to make Blaine lose his head. His hands again moved on autopilot down to palm Kurt through his jeans but Kurt once again stilled them.

"No," he insisted, a strange look in his eyes that Blaine had never seen before. Finally he just grabbed Blaine's hand and led him from the choir room, walking so fast that Blaine almost had to run to keep up.

They got to the parking lot in time to catch up with Finn, who hadn't left yet thankfully, due to being entangled in a heavy make out session with his girlfriend Rachel. Of course the rain had made it so that Kurt couldn't take his bike to school, so he had ridden with Finn.

"Come on Lover Boy. Kiss your goodbyes. Blaine and I need to get home to work on our community service project."

Although Finn was aware that Blaine came over occasionally to work on some project with Blaine, his eyes still widened as he saw the boy standing next to his car.

"He's coming over?"

"Yes Dufus, are you hard of hearing too?" Kurt said snippily.

Finn simply shrugged and turned to Rachel. "Looks like I've got to get going. I'll…I'll meet you at your house later to study?" He gave her a look that implied clearly that any activities they would be engaging in would _not_ be of the studying nature.

"Sounds perfect," she said, standing on tiptoes once again to kiss him.

"Alright chop chop!" Kurt interjected. "It's not like you won't see her in just a little bit. Just try to pry yourselves apart for half an hour. I swear you'll survive."

Blaine was amused to see Kurt's bossiness and impatience show through. It wasn't necessarily any different than his usual behavior, but it was all the more exciting to know that part of it was stemming from the fact that Kurt could not _wait_ to get Blaine alone.

Finn pulled apart from Rachel with a grunt of frustration directed at Kurt, but did as he was told. Kurt opened the back door for Blaine- _opened the door for him!- _and then hopped into the front seat with all the excitement of a puppy going for a car ride. It was sort of completely adorable, although Blaine could never tell Kurt that.

"Dude, you don't have to be so demanding," Finn said huffily as he slid behind the wheel.

"Dude, if you ever call me _dude_ again, there will be serious repercussions." Well. Kurt was certainly feeling sassy today.

"Reper-" Finn tried to sound out the word, clearly not knowing its meaning. Normally, Kurt would have taken the time to explain it to his brother but now he just sighed.

"Don't worry about it, just drive."

Blaine stifled back a chuckle at this cute, eager side of Kurt that he had never experienced before. And if Kurt was so eager, it must be with good reason. Blaine felt himself beginning to get a little excited and tried to focus on car accidents and dead puppies in order to calm down.

"If you could just speed up a little bit, I'd do your laundry for like a month," Kurt was saying to Finn in the front seat. Damn, the boy was impatient, Blaine thought. It was such a turn on.

"If I go any faster, I'll get pulled over. Relax. We're like three minutes from the house. What are you in such a rush for anyway?"

"We have a lot of work to do and Blaine's a busy guy."

"Yeah Blaine, speaking of which, I have to say again, that song today in Glee was _awesome_. I mean, for a song from a Disney movie. Maybe next time if you wanna do like The Doors or something, that'd be chill. But it's up to you ultimately."

"Don't do The Doors," Kurt said and Blaine could hear the frown in his voice.

"Hey! Don't knock The Doors!" Finn protested. "And what are you guys anyway, like friends now or something?"

"Or something," Blaine mumbled.

"Just forget everything that happened in the cafeteria," Kurt said with certainty. "Misunderstanding. All cleared up now."

"Good." Finn sounded relieved. "I gotta admit, I was psyched to see you in Glee today Man, then I remembered I was supposed to hate you, but it's just hard. You're a nice guy. And there's no room for hate in Glee; we're a family there, ya know?"

"Sure," Blaine nodded a little uncomfortably because he wasn't sure how well he was going to fit into this "family" Finn was talking about, and it worried him.

As soon as they got to Kurt and Finn's house, Kurt was leaping from his seat and reaching into the back to tug Blaine along with him.

"You going to visit Rachel?" He called to his brother who was watching them with a bewildered look on his face.

"Yeah I…I guess so." He was clearly distracted by Kurt's strange behavior.

"Alright then, have a nice time, try not to make any accidental babies while you're at it because you know with Rachel's Jewish nose and your terrifying height, the kid would really just be screwed from the get go."

Ah. And there was the Kurt they all knew and loved.

Finn pulled away and Kurt fumbled with his house keys to unlock the door, nearly falling when it gave way much faster than he had expected it to, Blaine entering cautiously behind him.

"I don't get to use this entrance much," he said with a light chuckle, trying to diffuse the heavy sexual tension that had suddenly settled thickly over the room.

"Yeah well, there happens to be another entrance you also don't use nearly enough that I'd much rather be discussing right now," Kurt murmured and Blaine didn't even have time to comment on how utterly _awful_ that line was before the taller boy had him jammed up against the door frame.

"Do you know what you did to me back there?" Kurt rasped, pinning his arms above his head while licking softly at his earlobe, as he had done earlier in the choir room.

"No," Blaine answered, trying not to let the word come out as a moan.

"You made me fucking _insane_." Kurt was biting down his neck now. "I had no idea you had a voice like that."

"It's not really something I share," Blaine quipped.

"Well you should. Or no…" He pulled back and looked into Blaine's eyes, licking his lips thoughtfully. "Perhaps it'd be safer if you kept it only for me." He bent his head back down to attack the skin at Blaine's throat and Blaine couldn't help but lift his hands up to tangle his fingers in Kurt's perfect chestnut hair.

"Only for you?" Blaine couldn't help but repeat in his lust-induced haze.

"_Only_ for me," Kurt all but growled and began working on Blaine's collarbone. His fingertips tore at the hem of Blaine's shirt he pulled it up and over his head in mere seconds.

"God why didn't I do this sooner?"

"I have no idea," Blaine answered honestly.

"Come on," Kurt murmured. "We have to _at least_ make it to my bedroom."

"Do we?" Blaine couldn't help but smile at Kurt's fervor.

"Mhmm," Kurt murmured, capturing Blaine's lips with his mouth again. His affection was almost overwhelming, but Blaine was determined to show that he could keep up.

Kurt grabbed fistfuls of Blaine's collar and dragged him down the stairs to his bedroom, tugging his jacket and shirt off and kissing him in between removal of the clothing.

Their times together had always been passionate but never like this. Kurt seemed _hungry_, ravenous for Blaine and Blaine couldn't say he disliked it.

"God you're such a fucking tease," Kurt growled as he grappled with Blaine's belt and whipped it onto the floor of the bedroom.

"Singing like that, acting so innocent. You had to know it would drive me crazy, make you irresistible to me." He sucked at Blaine's neck, no doubt leaving bright red splotches in his wake.

"You're ridiculous." Blaine chuckled at Kurt's dirty talk.

"Hey." Kurt pulled back with a look that was supposed to be annoyed but came off as more of a pout. "I'm trying to do something here and you are ruining it."

"Sorry, sorry," Blaine said with another quiet laugh, tilting his head back to give Kurt better access to his neck.

And then Kurt was attacking him, sucking and biting at his lower lip until he elicited growls from the other boy, causing Kurt to smile involuntarily at his ability to cause this reaction in Blaine.

Kurt pushed Blaine onto the bed on his back and began running his smooth fingers up and down Blaine's chest greedily. "God you feel so…so good," he breathed.

Blaine couldn't talk, simply continued to keep his head thrown back and his eyes closed, trying to control his breathing. This was legitimately the first time that Kurt had ever given Blaine _anything_ really, other than that first body shot, which didn't really count for anything. Blaine would've been lying if he said he wasn't scared. Fucking terrified actually. He was already so hungry for this. What if he enjoyed it _too_ much? What would it say about him?

But he didn't have much time to think. Kurt had his hand palming over the bulge in the front of Blaine's jeans.

"You're so hard already," Kurt said with lust in his eyes.

"Well I've waited long enough."

"That, you have," Kurt said with a glint, and with that he tore open the button of Blaine's jeans. He took a moment to revel in the view, the sight of Blaine, much bigger than he had anticipated, straining at his boxers. Kurt took a moment to brush across the swell, almost reverently, causing Blaine's hips to stutter in his direction and his eyes to flutter closed.

"Fuck Blaine, tell me you need this."

"You really need me to tell you?" Even turned on and mid-passion, Blaine could be sassy.

"Yes," Kurt growled, moving his hand away from Blaine's groin demonstratively.

"Fine. Fine. I need this. Kurt, I need _you. _Fucking touch me already."

Kurt grinned and tugged the rest of Blaine's jeans off, tossing his socks on the floor too. They now sat with Blaine's legs straddling Kurt, Kurt kneeling in between them licking his lips eagerly.

"Are you sure about this?" Kurt asked, pulling back from a long open-mouthed kiss he had planted on Blaine.

"Jesus Kurt, yes. I'm sure." Blaine's voice was low and growly and Kurt felt his own erection springing to life. But for once, that was not his focus. He wanted Blaine, Blaine's cock, Blaine moaning his name, wanting him, needing him.

"Good," Kurt moaned. "Cause there was no way I was gonna be able to stop."

He slid Blaine's boxers down, almost tentatively, gently at first. The tenderness of the action surprised Blaine, and then he found himself even more shocked when, his cock finally revealed, Kurt didn't immediately attack him but simply sat back on his heels and gazed for a moment, taking him in. Blaine had never felt so self-conscious in his life, never with a girl, or at a football game, or even performing at Glee Club today. He had never felt so entirely vulnerable with somebody else, but he found he didn't mind. If he was going to be vulnerable, he wanted to be so with Kurt, even if he couldn't entirely trust him. He was still the one Blaine wanted, for some stupid reason, to open up to. And as much as he would've liked to, he couldn't deny or change that fact.

After a few moments of gazing, Kurt finally leaned forward and placed the softest of kisses on the head of Blaine's cock. Blaine shuddered beneath the light touch and Kurt almost tenderly rubbed his hands up and down the side of Blaine's arms. What had started out as a lust-filled hook up had slowly turned into something much softer and it was scaring Blaine, but thrilling him simultaneously.

"You're beautiful," Kurt murmured, and Blaine wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not, he thought he must be, or at least must be hearing things, making up what he wanted to hear in his head. But the shocked and almost frightened look in Kurt's wide blue eyes told Blaine that he had heard correctly. Kurt had accidentally exposed his vulnerable side, let some emotion leak through the cracks in his armor and he was freaking out now. Blaine simply leaned up, and tangled his hands behind his head in a gentle but arduous kiss as if to tell him _it's okay, I won't judge you, it's alright. _

Blaine felt Kurt relax into the kiss after a few moments and then finally, his hand moved back down toward Blaine's dick, which responded to his touch eagerly.

Kurt wrapped his hand around the shaft and began stroking slowly, using Blaine's generous precum as a natural lubricant. And then, while keeping his hand firmly on the base, he put his mouth back to the tip, kissing it again, kissing down the sides, licking softly, teasing, torturing, making love to his cock with his mouth, adoring it, till Blaine was mewing beneath him.

"Your cock is too lovely to just take down in one swallow," Kurt explained as he continued to work his way around in tantalizing little strokes.

"Kurt…Kurt…please…" Blaine was begging and Kurt loved it.

He leaned back up to kiss Blaine again, and Blaine could taste his salty sweet precum on Kurt's lips, and surprisingly, it was hot.

"Patience." Kurt smiled, a genuine smile, and all his features lit up gorgeously. Blaine felt his breath catch in his throat. "Good things come to those who wait."

Kurt kissed down the center of Blaine's chest, down the dip between his pecs that trailed down between his softly-defined abs, lapped at the trail of dark hair that began to gather into a patch at his waistband. Blaine was arching his back into the kisses, wantonly. Kurt used his fingers to work Blaine's nipples as he moved about with his mouth, raising each one into a hard nub, pinching even, so that Blaine cried in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Kurt spent a good deal of time nuzzling at the fuzz at the top of Blaine's groin, inhaling his male muskiness, making Blaine nearly blush at the intimacy of it all.

He thought once again how this felt nothing like anything he had _ever_ done with Quinn, or any girl before her. In fact, the acts couldn't even really righteously be compared to each other.

"I…can't…believe…I waited…so long…to see you like this," Kurt said huskily between kisses he was layering on the base of Blaine's cock. Blaine felt himself melting inside at Kurt's gentleness, at the wrecked sound of his voice.

And then, finally, in the midst of Blaine's thoughts, Kurt took him fully in his mouth.

Blaine gasped at the feeling. Yes, Quinn had sucked him off before, and there had been another girl once before that, but it felt _nothing _like this. Oh sweet mother above this was incredible. The sheer warmth and wetness of Kurt over Blaine's length, the eagerness of his actions, the talent in his tongue, the lust-blown look in his green-blue eyes as Blaine gently pulled his hair up so that he could meet his gaze. Kurt looked so hot like this, mouth glistening and pink, hanging open, his breath coming fast, and his eyes, unwavering, meeting Blaine's steadily, saying so much but nothing that Blaine could understand. He felt his stomach twist suddenly as their eyes locked and he knew now that somehow, things had irrevocably changed. He didn't know what, but he could sense it, literally feel it in his gut. He had a feeling that Kurt could feel it too.

But Kurt didn't acknowledge the shift, simply moved his head back down as Blaine loosened his grasp and continued sucking zealously on Blaine's erection, paying special attention to the head before suddenly deep-throating the entire thing again without a hitch.

"Kurt…" Blaine twirled his fingers in Kurt's hair, unable to form any other words.

"God, Kurt."

Kurt hummed in acknowledgement and Blaine couldn't help but buck his hips into Kurt's face. He heard the taller boy make a small noise of surprise at the action, but then grasp Blaine's hips appreciatively, stroking small circles in the dips there. He moved his hands so that he was gripping Blaine's ass, encouraging the curly-haired boy to continue thrusting.

"Are you s-sure?" Blaine choked out.

"Fuck. Yes Baby. Fuck my mouth, come on. I want to make you feel amazing."

Those words sent Blaine over the edge and he let go, thrusting his hips erratically, Kurt taking every pounding in stride. As soon as Blaine found a rhythm, he found the pleasure mounting so strongly that he lost his control again. Kurt simply continued, even as he felt Blaine's body tightening, threatening his near-approaching release.

"Kurt…God…Kurt. Kurt!"

Kurt made a noise without moving his mouth that sounded like "what."

"I'm gonna come Kurt, I'm s-so close," Blaine rasped.

"Then come for me Baby. I want you to," Kurt whispered and that was absolutely all that it took for Blaine to let go, yelling Kurt's name and firing into his mouth a steady stream of himself, Kurt drinking it all in without hesitation, making Blaine come even more, and harder, till he simply lay there, spent and trembling on Kurt's bed.

Kurt moved off of his cock and up to kiss Blaine languidly and once again, Blaine could taste himself and found that he liked it. Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine's curls, now sweaty and more visible than they had been in their gelled state.

"You're beautiful," he whispered again, and this time, Blaine knew he was meant to hear it.

"You…are going to give me whiplash," Blaine responded softly, running his hand casually up and down Kurt's smooth back.

Kurt didn't comment on Blaine's words and so they hung in the air quietly until they finally faded and Kurt said, "I want to know why you sang that song."

"Hmmm?" Blaine murmured, feeling drowsiness pulling at his eyelids.

Kurt leaned up on his hands and kissed him soundly, before flopping back down so he was once again lying across Blaine's stomach, toying with his curls. "Wake up," he said petulantly, and his pout was adorable that Blaine couldn't help but laugh.

"No seriously. Answer my question," Kurt demanded. "Why _that _song?"

Blaine shrugged awkwardly. "I like Disney?" he supplied.

"Uh-uh," Kurt shook his head. "Not gonna cut it. You and I both know there's much more to it than that. Come on. Tell me."

Blaine sighed. How could he deny anything from this man?

"You were watching. You heard what I told Glee. It sums me up, kind of."

"How?" Kurt asked curiously.

Ugh. No getting out of this one.

"No wait," Kurt instructed him. "Why don't you sing it for me again. Just the parts you like the most."

"What?"

"Sing it for me. I demand a private performance."

"Kurt-"

"No. I just gave you the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life and you can't deny it. You owe me."

Blaine huffed but nevertheless, he began singing, softly at first, just a portion of the song.

_And I want a moment to be real,  
Wanna touch things I don't feel, wanna hold on and feel I belong  
__And how can the world want me to change  
__They're the ones who stay the same  
__They don't know me, cause I'm not here__  
_

Kurt rested his head on Blaine's chest, in the crook below his chin as Blaine finished the little segment, trying his best not to let the tears gather.

_And you see things they never see  
__All you wanted- I could be  
__Now you know me, and I'm not afraid  
__And I want to tell you who I am  
__Can you help me be a man  
__They can't break me as long as I know who I am__  
_

They lay in silence for a while, not speaking, just holding each other, and Blaine still found it unfathomable how many of Kurt's own rules he was breaking, but he certainly wasn't going to protest.

"I love that last part," Kurt said quietly.

Blaine didn't say anything, not sure of Kurt's meaning.

"Blaine…do you ever think sometimes…you might be gay?"

Kurt was travelling into forbidden territory, but he couldn't help himself. Blaine had just seemed so broken when singing the song, so needy and desperate, but unwilling to truly ask for help. Except in the song. Kurt couldn't help it; he wanted…he wanted to _be _the one Blaine was singing to in the last verse.

Blaine's voice shook and he felt a bit sick to his stomach but he simply said, "No."

"But…what about girls. I mean Quinn. Have you guys ever…"

"Had sex? Once. Sort of." Blaine laughed bitterly. "It's not really worth mentioning."

"So are you bi then?"

"Kurt I don't know!" Blaine was frustrated now. He moved so that Kurt was off of him and he was sitting up in the bed.

"I'm just trying to help you figure it out," Kurt said.

"Help me?" Blaine was boiling, all his anger and confusion and frustration suddenly mounting and escaping in one furious burst. "All you ever do is make it worse! You torture me and tease me, keeping me on this short fucking leash all the time, never admitting to me how you feel about me or letting me see if I feel something for you. You don't want to be close to me but you _do _things to me and I can't…I can't fucking take it anymore. I can't take your sick little games that you like to play with straight boys. It hurts too goddamn fucking much! How do you expect me to be able to figure shit out when you treat me the way you do? You know what? Fuck you Hummel. You pretend like you're this great humanitarian, fighting the good fight for the gays, doing the right thing, living for passion and rights. But you _play _with people. One day you tell me I mean nothing to you, then you're calling me _beautiful? _You're just a fucking slut. And I'm sick of being your boy toy. Find some other lost kid who wants to be yanked around. This isn't worth it for me. You aren't worth it."

Over the course of his yelling, Blaine had started tugging his clothes back on, buckling his belt, mis-buttoning his shirt, tossing his jacket on inside out.

"You can't just _break things off_," Kurt insisted. "We have the project…"

"Fuck the project! I'll do it by myself and tell Figgins you helped. I don't want to see you anymore. Not even your face."

Kurt was sitting in his bed, his shirt still discarded somewhere and his hair messy from their encounter, an expression of shock frozen onto his perfect features.

"And maybe," Blaine said, leaning down close to Kurt's ear, "You can send me a postcard in ten years and tell me how it feels to get _rejected_, how it feels to get your shit tossed right back in your face. I hope it feels good. I hope you feel like you've done the gay community proud. I'm going back to my girlfriend where I belong. She may be a homophobe but she doesn't fuck around with people's emotions and lives. So I choose her."

Kurt waited until the door slammed to let the tears start to fall.


	14. Hurricanes and Lies

**A/N: I am, as always, so sorry for the delay! But I just finished my finals and am officially home for the summer so be expecting updates on a lot more regular basis from now on :) Same goes for "A Father's First Spring"- I will be hopefully updating that late tonight or tomorrow. Can't say how much I love you all, especially my recent reviewers. I've had a ton of amazing guest reviews which I wish I could respond to personally, but since I can't, let me just say, you fill my heart with joy and please keep reading and letting me know your thoughts. It means so much to me! Here's hoping you like this chapter- plenty of angst [like heaps] and, I don't know, things happen. Don't hate me too much for anything. I love you all! xoxoxox**

**Songs used besides the oh-so-fitting Hurricane Drunk at the beginning [which, the last line is so tragically ironic once you read the end of this chapter] are:**

**Lies by Glen Hansard [which I totally owe to the AMAZING story "Pretty Woman" and its incredible author triddlegrl on livejournal- listen to it, it's heartbreaking]**

**and**

**Scream & Shout by will. i . am . and B-Spears [don't judge me, I just really like that particular part!]**

**[And yes in case you couldn't tell, I have something of a Florence and the Machine fetish.]**

* * *

_No walls can keep me protected  
No sleep, nothing in between me and the rain  
And you can't save me now, I'm in the grip of a hurricane  
I'm gonna blow myself away  
__I'm going out, I'm gonna drink myself to death  
__And in the crowd, I see you with someone else,  
__I brace myself, cause I know it's going to hurt,  
__But I like to think at least things can't get any worse__  
_

-Hurricane Drunk by Florence + the Machine

Blaine was more than a little bit horrified when he found himself standing in line at _Scandals, _the only gay bar for miles. Of course, it was still western Ohio and so the crowd was fairly conservative in comparison to most gay bars. But still. It was a gay. Bar. And it had its fair share of bears and leather daddies and trannies to make Blaine feel quite unsettled.

But he didn't allow himself to freak out about that. He was here for a reason, he had an exact purpose in mind. He was, tonight, going to figure out once and for all what these _feelings _were. His eruption at Kurt after that blowjob was certainly unexpected; he had surprised even himself. He had been angry with Kurt, had wanted him and felt like he wasn't treating him fairly, and that implied some scary things about Blaine's sexuality.

But, he kept reminding himself, it was entirely possible that it was just Kurt Hummel doing this to him. Kurt had a way of getting under people's skin and maybe Blaine was straight and Kurt had just confused him. So tonight would be a test. Blaine wasn't sure he was ready for the answer, but he certainly couldn't wait any longer. This last week at school and with Quinn had been nothing short of hell for him.

On Monday, he had set up a table in the cafeteria for the Gay and Lesbian Center. It wasn't anything exciting, just a bunch of pamphlets, some free pens and bumper stickers, brochures about awareness and tolerance, and a donation bucket. He had sat there, manning the table during lunch stalwartly, brave and alone. Kurt hadn't even attempted to help him. And that was more than fine, because while having to do this without Kurt would be a lot more work, at least it wouldn't be painful.

It was true some kids had stopped to laugh and point, mocking him. The few people that had taken brochures proceeded to take them to their tables and read them to each other, making fun of everything they said. Blaine wasn't sure whether he cared or not. But honestly, most people just walked by ignoring him entirely.

That was, except for one boy.

Blaine had seen Sam Evans a couple times. He was new to the school, had come in a little after Kurt, and Blaine knew he was on the football team as well as in Glee Club, but they had never spoken.

Yet now, here he was, six feet of pure muscle striding confidently toward Blaine with that strikingly blonde hair and too-wide smile. Blaine was positive he was about to be torn to shreds.

But that had been far from the case.

"Sam Evans," Sam had said by way of introduction, as if Blaine didn't already know him. The whole freaking school knew him, he was all the cheerleaders could talk about, he was quickly rising to the top of the social totem pole and just being seen near him could raise your social status several pegs.

Not that Blaine's social status needing raising. Although it might after today.

"Sure," Blaine nodded. "I'm Blaine Anderson."

"I know," Sam said with a grin. "I heard your Glee audition. It really fucking rocked Man. I wanted to go up to you and tell you then, but I couldn't really work up the courage." Sam blushed a little bit, hands in his pockets.

"Couldn't work up the courage? Are you kidding me? You've only been here a few months and you're like the most popular kid at McKinley already."

"But that's just it," Sam explained. "I've only been here a few months. I'm just some newbie transfer weirdo. You- you're like a legend at this school. Plus you've got the looks, and the pipes. That's pretty intimidating for a dude."

"Trust me, nothing to be intimidated about here," Blaine said, and for some unknown godforsaken reason, he felt himself tinging pink as well.

"So," Sam said, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the table in front of Blaine, "I didn't know you were into all this stuff."

"Yeah," Blaine said with a sigh. "To be honest, I'm doing it as a community service project for an altercation I had earlier this year. I was supposed to do it with a- with a partner, but he kind of bailed. So now it's just me and my rainbow flags." He laughed awkwardly.

"No I think it's really cool. From what I've seen here, this school doesn't know much about tolerance. It really pisses me off, you know? Back home, everyone was always really open. I guess I just had sort of a culture shock when I came here."

Blaine smiled sympathetically. "Yeah, the kids here can really be assholes. I'm doing my best to raise some awareness or something you know, but if they're not making fun of it, most kids just don't care."

Sam nodded, whole-heartedly agreeing with the words coming out of Blaine's mouth and Blaine found himself very inappropriately fixated on Sam's mouth, his amazing, delectable-looking lips, wondering how they would feel, maybe, if he could only just…

"_There_ you are!" If anyone was the master of the girlfriend bitch out, it had to be Quinn. Blaine should've been able to tell she was coming from a mile away with all the smoke that poured out of her ears as she approached the table. In fact, for the way her green eyes were lighting up in a fiery rage right now, she might as well have been some demon.

"Would you care to explain just what the _hell_ you think you're doing sitting here manning the gay booth like some kind of fag!" Quinn barked at him. Blaine flushed, wishing Sam wasn't here to see him get treated like a naughty five-year-old caught stealing cookies by his own girlfriend.

"Quinn, Sam. Sam, you may have already met her, but this is my girlfriend, Quinn Fabray."

Quinn had not noticed Sam before. She now had the decency to look slightly embarrassed and turned to the blonde boy, a sickly saccharine smile plastered to her Barbie doll face.

"Sam Evans, the one and only," she said sweetly, holding out her hand.

"Ah, my reputation precedes me," Sam said with a light chuckle, taking her hand and kissing it. Blaine nearly swooned at the sight and then berated himself soundly.

"I'm so sorry you had to witness this. I hope Blaine wasn't trying to get you to…take any of this…crap," she said, surveying the contents of his table with disgust. "Sometimes, Blaine can get a little too excited about his school projects and things tend to get out of hand," she told Sam, as if Blaine weren't even there.

"On the contrary, Blaine and I were actually just discussing how few students here practice tolerance or are even aware of LGBTQ issues," Sam said smoothly.

"Oh. So, are you saying…you're supportive?"

"Absolutely. It just makes me sad that Blaine here has to champion this campaign all by himself. I'm sorry," Sam said, looking a little confused suddenly. "Did Blaine say you were his girlfriend?"

"That would be correct," Quinn said with an air of near-pride in her voice and Blaine was half-surprised she was owning up to it in front of this guy. "Quinn Fabray, captain of the Cheerios and president of the Celibacy Club."

"Oh," Sam said a bit awkwardly. "Wow. I just…wow. Okay. I just did not picture the two of you together."

In that moment, Blaine could've sworn Sam looked almost disappointed. But about which one of them being in a relationship, he couldn't tell.

Quinn seemed to think it was her because she gave her ponytail a firm swish and puffed her chest out a bit, which made Blaine want to tell her that no amount of thrusting and showing off would make her boobs look flattered by that hideous uniform. Not to mention they weren't all that impressive in the first place.

"Well, we've actually got two years in the bag, amazingly enough," Quinn purred, tossing a kiss to Blaine, who just frowned at his girlfriend's obvious fakeness. "But uhm, that doesn't mean I don't come across other boys who manage to turn my head from time to time," she whispered. "I'm always willing to work something out, for someone special."

Sam cleared his throat. It was obvious that Blaine had just heard everything his girlfriend was saying and Sam had an incredibly uncomfortable look on his face. Blaine honestly felt sorry for the poor guy. He seemed really nice _and hot, his mind yelled at him_, and it was unfortunate that Quinn was trying to sink her claws in.

"Well I better go, but it was nice meeting you Quinn, Blaine," Sam said, giving a nod to each of them and walking away hurriedly. Blaine could have face palmed right then and there at how embarrassing Quinn was and how much she had just totally fucked up a potential friendship.

"Well break me off a piece of that Kit Kat bar," Quinn said wistfully, licking her lips as she watched Sam walk away.

"Uhm yeah excuse me? Hello? Boyfriend right here." Blaine didn't know why he bothered pointing it out, it wasn't as if he actually really cared. But the way Quinn was staring at Sam as though he were some fuzzy forest creature she was preying on was really getting to him.

"Oh please," Quinn said, whipping around finally to face her boyfriend. "You run out on me after failing to even deflower me properly and then spend weeks hanging around with the school's resident faggot and manning this little gay booth and expect me to remain faithful and true? You forget who you're talking to, Anderson. Quinn Fabray plays second to _no one_. I thought I had made you aware of that."

"You did. You did make me aware of that."

"Well you have a funny way of showing your loyalty _Blaine_," she sneered, gesturing at the table.

"Fucking community service Quinn. God, it's like you don't even listen to me."

"I might find it easier to listen to you if you could actually give me a decent fucking rather than pussying out halfway through."

Okay. That was hitting below the belt.

"Alright I'm gonna say this and I'm gonna say it once," Blaine said, never in his life having imagined that he would stand up to Quinn like this. "I am your goddamned boyfriend of two fucking years. That means you don't get to hit on other guys right in front of me. That also means that we are going to have sex, again, only this time, on my terms, and maybe if you retract your bitch claws for five seconds I'll actually be able to maintain a hard on for you. And don't pretend like you're going to break up with me because we both know this relationship is just as important to your mom and dad as it is to mine. So why don't you just be a good little princess and stop shooting your mouth off about things you don't understand and be a decent fucking girlfriend for a change?"

Quinn was staring at him open-mouthed and for a brief moment he worried that she was going to tell his mom about this, who would then proceed to make his life so miserable that he would wish he had never been born in the first place. But instead, she leaned forward and gave him a long, sultry kiss, full on the mouth. Blaine was so shocked that he didn't even have time to respond before she had pulled off again.

"I don't have daddy issues that badly that I actually like getting emotionally abused by my boyfriend but that was actually kind of hot," she breathed into his ear. "Looking forward to seeing what you have in store Mr. Anderson." And with that, she sashayed off, leaving Blaine speechless and rather horrified. He was not at all sure that he was prepared for what he had just gotten himself into.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Meanwhile Kurt had been watching the entire exchange from his vantage point in the far back corner of the cafeteria, where he sat brooding over an apple, feet propped on the stool next to him, gritting his teeth as that stupid, trout-mouth blonde boy threw himself all over Blaine in front of the entire lunch room. They might as well have been grinding on the dance floor for how obvious the sexual tension was. And Blaine said he wasn't gay. Yet there he was flirting with the school's newest transfer student _right in front of everybody_. It was enough to make Kurt lose his appetite, if he had even had one to begin with.

And to make matters worse, _that _scenario was quickly followed by a disgusting display of PDA between Blaine and that god-awful girlfriend of his. Couldn't they just fucking get a room or something? No need to subject the whole school to their hideous performances.

Kurt hated the jealousy welling up in his stomach, hated that this stupid boy had managed to get under his skin.

Jesus Christ, how could he have been so utterly fucking stupid? So close to letting his walls down entirely for this dumb jock with the goofy smile? So goddamn invested in something that he had actually broken into tears when Blaine made that speech in his bedroom yesterday and stormed out.

When Blaine _did_ leave, Kurt allowed himself to cry, for a few minutes, or maybe longer, he wasn't totally positive, and then he had picked himself up and decided to go and do exactly what Blaine expected him to do. Exactly what Kurt Hummel had _always_ done.

He was going to go out Friday night, and he was going to forget. And where to do that? Why, the only gay bar out there for miles. _Scandals_, it would be.

x-x-x-x-x-x

When Blaine finally got into _Scandals_, still a little bit shocked that he didn't get called on his crappy fake ID, he headed straight for the bar, because if he was going to get through the night, he was going to need _some_ sort of libations. He asked for a beer because he didn't want to get drunk or anything. Buzzed a bit, sure. But intoxication would just render his experiment irrelevant and he needed to keep his wits about him, to tell if his reactions were real.

The bartender soon returned to hand him a chilled Killian's, and while some said it was a girl's beer, Blaine preferred it because it was light, and he didn't really love beer all that much in the first place. The bartender had deep blue eyes and rugged arms and Blaine couldn't help but grin stupidly at him when he winked as he handed Blaine his beer. _It's not so hard to be here_, Blaine realized; in fact, he was a bit frightened to make the admission, but he felt rather at home. Well, maybe not at home, but comfortable. Sort of like he fit in. Or at least, if he didn't fit in, like that was okay, like maybe everybody didn't fit in, and they all didn't fit in together, which made them, somehow, weirdly and paradoxically fit in. His brain was working overtime to try to understand his own thoughts and it occurred to him that he was nervous. But good nervous. _Excited_ nervous.

And that's when he saw a familiar face in the crowd.

No it wasn't Kurt's like he had been dreading; Kurt was, after all, the one who had told him about _Scandals_ and he was more than a little paranoid about running into him.

It was someone much better. The person walking towards him was Sam Evans, blue-eyed and blonde-haired, muscled and charming, turning heads as he made his way over to Blaine and looking like pure sunshine himself with that hair and that stupid, stupid oversized grin. Blaine was melting all the way to his toes.

"Blaine!" Sam clapped him on the shoulder in friendly greeting. "What in fuck's name are you doing here?" He yelled above the music.

"Uhm…" Well shit. Blaine hadn't considered this part, the explaining his reasons for being here part, he had just been so happy to see Sam. Fuck. What could he say? Research? No, Sam'd see right through that.

"I, you know, I am involved in a lot of extracurricular activities. This happens to be one of them," Blaine answered vaguely in what he hoped was a mildly smooth manner.

Sam grinned at him knowingly. "Thank God. I just knew it, knew it right when I saw you, that you couldn't be some straight-as-a-pole Bible-thumping jockstrap like all the rest. And then, when your girlfriend came over, God, she really threw me for a loop. I have to admit I was shocked. And mega-fucking-disappointed. But here you are! Here you are after all and I was right and, man, it's just so great to see you here Blaine." Sam pulled Blaine into a soul-crushing hug and it was in that moment that Blaine fully realized what seeing Sam here meant. It meant that Sam…Sam must be…Sam was…_gay. _The most popular guy currently at McKinley High and he was gay! And flirting with Blaine!

And suddenly, Blaine was on top of the world.

"Sam," Blaine said, trying to get the blonde's attention as he flagged down the bartender.

"Blaine," Sam responded cheesily with his signature smile.

"I have to admit something to you. When I talked to you before, at school, I really…I had no idea that you were…"

"Gay?" Sam laughed. "I don't like to announce it when I walk into rooms anymore, because the kids at McKinley are so damn frigid. I think they'd throw me off the football team if they knew. It sucks."

"It does," Blaine agreed, even though he wasn't out or even _gay_ and so he really didn't know what it was like.

"So anyway Man, what's your arrangement with Quinn? She your beard or something?"

"No. She's my girlfriend, like I told you."

Sam took a long swig of the beer he had been handed. "She know you're here?"

Sam had him now. Blaine sighed in defeat and ran a hand through loose curls. "Not on your life," he half-whispered.

"So I take it you're not…out," Sam prodded.

"I'm not out because I'm not _gay_," Blaine insisted. Sam looked genuinely confused.

"Then why are you here?"

"I just…I like…to fool around sometimes. You know, experiment or whatever. I don't need fucking labels or someone to tell me who I am. I just want fun. Casual fun." Blaine was feeling defensive and he moved on to his second beer.

Sam seemed to sense Blaine's attitude and backed off. "It's okay Man. I know how you feel. I've been there. And wherever you end up, you'll never regret these days. These days of figuring it out, of having fun. More guys should be willing to let themselves go. That's hard to do. But you seem pretty brave."

Sam was smiling coyly and Blaine could see he was trying to flirt with him and he didn't hate it.

"I try to be."

"Well I think you succeed, for the most part. But the real test of bravery is, will you go out onto the dance floor and dance with me? Show us all what you got?"

Blaine felt his heart leap a little bit, his cheeks already flushing.

"I think I could manage that," he answered, taking Sam's outstretched hand and letting the taller boy lead him to the center of the gyrating couples on the dance floor. Sam was all confidence and swagger and when they got out to the center of the group, Blaine could see why. The boy had some serious _moves_.

He grabbed Blaine's wrists and pulled him close so that Blaine's back was pressed flush against Sam's well-muscled chest. Sam then lifted Blaine's arms so they were high above his head, causing his shirt to ride up ever so slightly and Sam drifted his hands down, trickling his fingers over Blaine's arms, dancing across his shoulders, and then slowly, tantalizingly, sliding them over his chest.

Blaine closed his eyes as Sam's fingers found the patch of skin that was bared for all the world and began stroking and teasing the area, kissing it with his fingertips, daring at moments to slip his fingers just into the top of Blaine's pants, running them across his waistband, before slipping them out again.

God this was hot.

He could feel Sam's hips swiveling behind him in time to the music, his groin pressing erotically into Blaine's own backside, letting him _feel_ Sam in all his arousal.

Blaine couldn't help but lose himself in it all. He knew it was wrong, on _so_ many levels, but he could not force himself to care any longer. Fuck Quinn and fuck his mother and most of all, fuck Kurt. He wanted this, in this moment, didn't care who saw or what it meant or what the ramifications of it would be later. He just wanted to allow himself what he wanted, for once in his life. And so Blaine continued to dance with Sam, to feel him, to enjoy him, forgetting Sam's name and perhaps even his own as he became more and more lost to the feeling. He was surrendering completely and nothing had ever felt so good, he was buzzed off the alcohol and he didn't have an identity anymore, he just one, with the music, with this other body, with the feelings. He let his body move without consideration of what he was doing; it knew what to do on his own. And this, this felt right.

Words broke through the dull roar that had replaced all noise in his head.

"Blaine. _Blaine_."

And oh. It was Sam speaking and _he _was Blaine and he was _straight_ and taken and dancing, with a sexy blonde, in a gay bar and _oh._

Because there was Kurt, at the other end of the bar, staring at him, something like ice hardening the irises of his normally liquid blue, green, yellow eyes that were always so bright and enchanting that they sometimes looked inhuman. But what Blaine saw there now was none of that, what he saw now was cold and empty, like skeletal trees in the wintertime, stripped of their beauty and warmth.

Blaine decided he didn't care. He could feel Kurt's gaze burning him and he felt emboldened by that, by the hurt Kurt had caused him and how much he wanted to hurt him back, and more than that, fortified by the alcohol and the arousal of dancing with Sam. Blaine tilted his head back and turned it slightly and fortunately, Sam read his intentions and leaned forward and just like that, they were kissing.

Sam's lips were much different than Kurt's, but not necessarily in a bad way, Blaine thought. His skin was not as smooth and his lips were wider and sloppier in their kisses, but they still had the ability to make the heat stir and pool in Blaine's stomach and begin pulsing southward. Blaine reached a hand up to grab one of Sam's and place it on his pectoral muscle, holding his own hand over it to keep it there, and he kept his other hand entwined in Sam's shaggy blonde hair. Sam responded enthusiastically to these movements, deepening the kiss and continuing to grind against Blaine, his free hand on Blaine's hip, fingers digging tightly into the bone and flesh there, holding Blaine's body in place against his own. It was all so erotic and even more erotic because Blaine knew Kurt was watching.

He opened his eyes for a quick second and Kurt was no longer standing there. This made Blaine truly open his eyes, like a man emerging from a deep sleep, and search for Kurt. Where could he have gotten to? It was just like him, to walk out, Blaine thought bitterly as he realized that Kurt had certainly vacated the small bar.

_Whatever. Good riddance. Tonight isn't even about him. You're done with him._

Blaine nodded to his own inner voice and then felt the hair on his neck rise as Sam's lips brushed against his ear when he whispered,

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

Without thinking Blaine grabbed both of Sam's hands in his and steered them toward the door.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Admittedly, the last person Kurt had expected to see upon arriving at Scandals on Friday night was Blaine. Hadn't Blaine insisted he wasn't gay, basically broken up with Kurt because of it, and run back to his little girlfriend like a slap in the face?

_Not broken up with, _Kurt thought harshly to himself. That would imply they had had some sort of relationship. And they didn't. Just an arrangement. A stupid arrangement that had gone on far too long. And now Blaine was- well what? Throwing it all in Kurt's face? Proving once and for all that Kurt was right not to trust him, not to trust anybody? Because Blaine had lied, outright, and that would've hurt somebody who had been more invested than Kurt was. Yes, it would've hurt them a great deal. But fortunately, Kurt had _not_ allowed that to happen. And that was why he did not care what Blaine Anderson did, or if he _was_ at Scandals, despite everything he'd said, there with another guy nevertheless.

That was why when Kurt left the bar furiously scrubbing at his eyes with the fists of his hands to keep from allowing tears to run down his cheeks, it had _nothing at all_ to do with one Blaine Anderson.

Kurt sat in his car once outside the bar, trying to gather his wits about him. Fortunately he had only really just arrived when he had been greeted by that disgusting display, so he hadn't had time to drink anything. He would be fine to drive. If he could just get his damn eyes to stop watering. His contacts must be dry or something. _What the fuck Hummel? _He asked himself as his eyes began to water more instead of settling down as he took deep breaths and rubbed them.

Even through the teary haze, it was impossible to miss the couple stumbling drunkenly out of the front door of the club, hanging off each other like a couple of newlyweds. Kurt blinked once, twice, trying to clear his eyesight, but the tears only seemed to come faster as he watched Blaine- beautiful Blaine- hanging onto the arm of another boy, kissing another boy, walking in the arms of another boy.

Kurt became vaguely aware that the radio was on, a man's voice wailing at him lyrics he felt all too appropriate for the moment:

_I think it's time, we give it up__  
__And figure out what's stopping us__  
__From breathing easy, and talking straight__  
__The way is clear if you're ready now_

Blaine was stumbling a little bit and Sam reached to grab him more firmly before he fell onto his face. It had begun to rain outside the club but Kurt didn't bother turning on his window wipers. The blurred image was already far too vivid for him.

_You're moving too fast for me__  
__And I can't keep up with you__  
__Maybe if you slowed down for me__  
__I could see you're only telling__  
__Lies, lies, lies_

The boys got to a green car parked half in shadow and Sam was pushing Blaine up against it, soaked through though they both were, and kissing him soundly while Blaine grasped his blonde locks in his strong fingers._  
_

_Breaking us down with your__  
__Lies, lies, lies__  
__When will you learn__  
_

Kurt was not crying. God, no, Kurt was _not_ crying. He continued to repeat this mantra to himself even as he felt the ache in his heart tearing even larger, even as he placed his face in his hands, ducking below the steering wheel so no one could see him, and felt his shoulders shaking and his body becoming racked by his own sobs.

He was mad at Blaine, but mostly sad, because he knew, at the end of it all yes he knew, that it was he who had done it to himself. This was what he had wanted, wasn't it? Kurt Hummel had succeeded once again in keeping a boy at arm's length and sending him packing when the time was right. He just hadn't expected it to hurt so much on his end.

Long after the boys had gotten into the green car and Sam, the apparently more sober of the two, had pulled away, Kurt remained in the parking lot. He opened his door and crawled onto the sidewalk where he let the rain wash over him so soon he couldn't tell where his tears ended and the raindrops began.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Blaine didn't really know what he was doing when he pulled Sam from the club and began making out with him against his car, outside, where anyone could be driving by. He just knew that it felt good and that after seeing Kurt, he suddenly needed it. He didn't have any cares anymore. Of course, that aspect was aided by the amount of beer he had downed within the course of about an hour. It was only when Sam pulled the car over in a small parking lot and began passionately kissing Blaine that Blaine began to sober up a little bit.

The radio was playing, some pop hit song that Blaine had never previously liked but in the moment he felt was so right:

_And baby it goes on and on and on and on  
__When me and you party together  
__I wish this night would last forever  
__Cause I was feeling down, now I'm feeling better__  
_

"This song is perfect," he whispered to Sam as the blonde boy straddled him, nipping at his earlobe.

"You're perfect," Sam whispered back huskily, and Blaine smiled to himself, humming along with the stupid, feel-good song.

"I can't make this night last forever, but I can tell you that it will be one you'll never forget," he breathed and Blaine felt himself harden at just the promise those words held.

Sam began to kiss down Blaine's neck, murmuring to him as he did so. "God, you're so hot. And smart too. Funny. I was crushed when I thought you were with Quinn. I thought my gaydar must've broken for sure. But now here we are, and I get to do this to you. This is all I've been wanting to do to you since I first laid eyes on you.

Blaine didn't say anything, just let Sam continue on his path, his hand snaking down to tug at the button on Blaine's jeans. He was too drunk to care that in his head it was Kurt's lips, and Kurt's hand that was caressing him. Too drunk to remind himself that Kurt had only ever hurt him and didn't deserve to be missed.

"Fuck, I'm so glad you're gay."

Blaine wasn't _that _drunk.

He shot up from the seat where Sam had pinned him down, banging into the other boy in the process.

"Ow. Jesus Blaine what was that for?" Sam asked, rubbing his head where he had knocked it on the roof.

"I'm not gay," Blaine said, struggling to push Sam off of him and give themselves as much distance as possible.

"You gotta be kidding me right?" Sam looked at him open-mouthed from underneath his shaggy bangs. "You were totally just dry-humping me in a gay bar and now you're out here hooking up with me in my car and you're still gonna pull the "straight guy" crap? Knock it off Blaine. It's cute at first but there's a point where it starts to get offensive."

"I'm not lying."

"So what are you then, bisexual?"

"I'm straight!" Blaine insisted.

"Well that's a fucking lie and a half." Sam sounded pissed off now.

"I am goddamnit!" Blaine was fighting back tears now. He bit his lip as Sam began buckling his seatbelt, starting the engine with clipped, angry movements. "Don't tell anyone," he pleaded, pathetically.

Sam sighed then, and his previous anger had melted somewhat.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone. I'm not that kind of guy. I thought you would've realized that. Besides, it wouldn't exactly help my reputation would it?" He chuckled bitterly. Blaine didn't respond.

"Lighten up Man." Sam punched him softly in the shoulder. "Clearly, you have a lot of figuring out to do. And I'm sorry for that, it's a shit place to be. I hope you work it all out."

"Listen, I-" Blaine wanted to say something, to protest, but it was obviously too late now. Sam knew, knew Blaine's secret and he couldn't take that back.

"Calm down alright? No one is going to find out unless you tell them." Sam peered at him for a moment in the darkness. "_Does_ anyone else know?"

"Well…I guess…Kurt Hummel…we used to sort of have a thing…I guess. I don't know. Anyway it's over now." Blaine didn't mean to sound so dejected as he stared at his hands in his lap.

"Kurt Hummel." Sam whistled long and low. "I can't pretend I don't think he's super attractive. Also an asshole though. Heard he's a real heartbreaker."

"Heartbreaker." Blaine gave a sharp laugh. "That sounds about right. He gets every boy who's even slightly bi-curious, sooner or later. But asshole? I don't know. Sometimes he could be. But sometimes…" Blaine trailed off on that thought, gazing out the window, remembering the times when Kurt would open up to him, or say something entirely sweet or funny, and it hurt to think of it.

Sam didn't ask questions, politely just let it be. "I'm sorry you got mixed up with Hummel. But not all guys are gonna be jerks like that."

Blaine blinked to keep the water from leaking from his eyes. He was starting to get uncomfortable in his wet clothes that were more or less molded to his body. He wanted out of here, to get home, to forget everything.

"Not gay," he mumbled at Sam half-heartedly.

"Right, right, I forgot," Sam muttered sarcastically, but not cruelly. He seemed to sense Blaine's train of thought and pulled out then, speaking only to ask Blaine directions to his house. When they arrived there, Blaine couldn't get out of the car soon enough, unbuckling his seatbelt and nearly racing to get to the door.

"Blaine," Sam called in the darkness and Blaine couldn't help but stop for a half-second.

"I really could have liked you, you know? If it all wasn't so messed up. If you- if you ever figure things out and you decide- you know that maybe you're ready for something- I'll be around."

Blaine gave a half-hearted smile and nodded because after everything, Sam really was a nice guy.

Blaine just wasn't gay.

Which was why, when he reached his bedroom and peeled himself out of his soaking clothes, he absolutely did _not_ throw himself dramatically across his bed and cry quietly into his pillows over a boy named Kurt Hummel.

x-x-x-x-x-x

It was close to 5 AM and Blaine had fallen asleep face-down on his bed crying when he was awoken to the sound of his phone buzzing next to his ear insistently. He cracked an eye open groggily to squint at the caller ID.

Kurt.

Blaine knew it was stupid, _he _was the one who had walked away from Kurt after all, but only because Kurt had basically forced him to, and now Kurt was calling him and he couldn't help but pick up.

"What do you want?"

The sounds on the other side of the phone were decidedly upset and un-Kurt like. In fact, it sounded like the person was crying, albeit quietly.

"Kurt?" Blaine said, unable to keep a note of worry from slipping out in his voice.

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice was strangled, thick with tears, and so very small. Blaine felt his heart clenching.

"Kurt what is it?"

"It's my…my…my dad had a heart attack," Kurt finally whispered and Blaine's heart sunk at the words.

"Oh my God, Kurt. Is he-?"

"He's alive." Kurt let out a shuddery breath. "But unconscious. The hospital sent me home. Carole's on duty. Said they'd call with news. Blaine-" Kurt's words got choked off in a sob again and Blaine's heart was breaking for him.

"What can I do?" Blaine asked simply.

"Come over. Please." Kurt said pitifully. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't ask just- I need-"

Blaine shushed him, already tugging on his shoes. "I'm on my way."


	15. Waiting For A Superman

**A/N: Hello my lovely lovely darling readers! Sorry for my mean cliffhanger, hopefully this is better! Much love as always- at the end of the chapter, I'm going to address the guest reviewers from the last chapter or so. I can't promise to do this in every chapter but you guys are so great I want to at least once. Thank you so much as always and I hope you enjoy :) Update soon to come in which we finally discover what happened in Kurt's past. Until then, read and review if you like! xoxox always!**

***I HAVE started publishing this on scarvesandcoffee, under my same name, in case any of you are interested.**

**ALSO: the song used in this chapter is "Waiting For A Superman" by Iron & Wine. So good. Just saying.**

* * *

_Let's stay awake and listen to the dark  
__Before the birds, before they all wake up  
__It's the ending of a play, and soon begins another  
__Hear the leaves applaud the wind  
__See the sun come rising and white winds start to fly  
__Like strings of pearls in the fiery sky  
__Lend me your winds and teach me how to fly  
__Show me when it rains the place you go to hide__  
_

-Birds by Emiliana Torrini

After Kurt's phone call, Blaine drove as if in a trance. He was worried, worried about Burt who had been nothing but kind to him that one time they had interacted, but more than that, so terribly worried about Kurt.

Kurt was fragile. Sure, he seemed strong on the outside, and he was; he had a hard, cold exterior, but Blaine more than anyone could tell that it was a façade, a shield Kurt had carefully constructed and put up after years of suffering. Blaine couldn't imagine what losing his father would do to Kurt- he was already so broken.

Blaine could only hope that somehow, in some way, he could be the one to help Kurt come out of this in one piece, help him emerge out of this sorrow with his humanness still intact, without letting him finally and completely shut himself off from the world.

Blaine's iPod was still plugged into his car stereo from earlier in the day and the lyrics of a slow, sweet song, filled his ears through the rain, though he barely noticed:

_I asked you a question and I didn't need you to reply  
__Is it getting heavy  
__But then I realize, is it getting heavy  
__Well, I thought it was already as heavy as can be__  
_

Blaine continued to drive, through the rain and its wreckage, barely able to see the road in the darkness and with the blur of the water on the windshield and the glazed feeling settling over his eyes.

_Tell everybody waiting for Superman  
__That they should try to hold on best they can  
__He hasn't dropped them, forgot them or anything  
__It's just too heavy for Superman to lift__  
_

When Blaine finally got to Kurt's house, it felt like he had been in the car for hours, though thirty minutes was more accurate. At least, it should've only been thirty minutes. He couldn't say for sure, he couldn't even remember at all what had happened on the car ride.

His mind now knew one thing: that Kurt needed him. Kurt was in that house and Kurt was in need and Blaine was here to save him.

He went around back because the lights were on in the living room, despite the fact that it was so late, and he didn't want to interact with Carole or Finn. Blaine knocked on the door, once, twice, a third time, a hard, insistent rap, until the door was opened so suddenly he nearly fell inside.

Kurt was standing there, looking completely wrecked, his eyes swollen and red-rimmed and Blaine wanted to die from the sight alone. God, hadn't Kurt suffered enough already? He stood there awkwardly in the doorway, framed by the light of the moon, unable to move, unsure what Kurt wanted.

There was a long beat where they both stood frozen, simply taking the other in. And then Kurt did the hardest, bravest thing he had done in years. He reached forward to collect Blaine in his arms.

He was suddenly surrounded, his senses being filled by the scent of Blaine and the feeling of him, Blaine's hair against his cheek, his rain-soaked jacket dampening Kurt's skin, Blaine's warm neck against Kurt's, Blaine hugging him, Blaine holding him up, _Blaine._

Kurt's tears started silently but they racked his entire body so that he was trembling like a scared little puppy, causing Blaine to tighten his grip on the other boy.

_Shh, _he murmured over and over again. _It's alright, it's alright._

He hadn't even realized he was gently repeating the mantra until after a long time, Kurt finally moved, wiping his runny nose uncomfortably on the back of his hand and heaving out a long, shuddery breath. Blaine felt stiff and damp; he realized they had left the door to the outside open and the cold air was coming in in large gusts. Kurt hadn't noticed; the boy seemed entirely numb to feeling. Blaine went to close it and then gathered some tissues from the box in Kurt's little, pristine bathroom. The taller boy was standing right where Blaine had left him, not having moved even an inch, a look of watery horror etched into his unblinking blue-green eyes. The golden yellow that sometimes flickered in them when Kurt was especially happy or standing in the sunlight was nowhere to be seen right now.

"Kurt, here," Blaine said and when he didn't react, Blaine forcefully wiped across Kurt's nose and dabbed at his eyes with his fistful of tissues until he was satisfied with the result. Blaine then set the crumpled tissues down and put his hands on Kurt's shoulders, gently pushing him backwards until he was sitting on his bed. He began to remove Kurt's jacket and shoes; he had clearly just gotten back from the hospital when he called and literally hadn't done anything else between that time and Blaine's arrival, too much in shock as he was.

"I'm going to get you some tea," Blaine told Kurt, who did not acknowledge whether or not he had heard Blaine or even cared. "Just stay here," Blaine instructed and it was almost a funny thing, in a twisted kind of way, because Blaine knew that Kurt wasn't going anywhere even if he tried to make him.

Blaine decided quickly that it didn't matter who was upstairs or if they found out he was here. They would understand. But when he got to the living room, it was empty, though the television was on as well as most of the lamps.

It was odd and more than a little freaky. Kurt's dad's truck had been in the driveway when Blaine drove in, but Carole and Finn's cars probably would've been in the garage. If they were home. They were home weren't they? Shouldn't they be?

Blaine decided he would leave it and set about putting some water on to boil. He found a significant stash of chamomile tea in the cupboard labeled very distinctively "Kurt", so he figured that was probably a safe bet of what Kurt liked. He added a little honey to the mug that he was steeping the tea bag in and then brought the hot cup down the stairs.

Kurt was, as predicted, still sitting in exactly the same place as Blaine had left him. When Blaine entered the room, Kurt looked up slowly and then,

"What are you doing here?" It wasn't asked accusatorily, like Kurt normally would've, or snarkily- just with genuine confusion, which scared Blaine and made him sad simultaneously.

He set the tea on the ground and knelt down in front of Kurt.

"You asked me to come over, remember?" He said gently, taking the other boy's icy hands in his.

"I did?" Kurt asked, looking truly bewildered.

"You did," Blaine said softly. He was unable to keep himself from lightly stroking the back of Kurt's hand with his own, moving in slow, and what he hoped were calming circles, trying to bring some warmth and life back.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said, his brow furrowed. "I forgot."

"No, no, don't be sorry," Blaine said quickly. "Don't be worried about it. Here." He handed Kurt the cup of tea, which the shaken boy took gingerly, almost warily in his hands.

"It's chamomile with honey. Drink it Kurt."

Kurt still seemed uncertain but did as Blaine instructed. After a few careful swallows, Blaine noticed that Kurt's hands were trembling around the mug, sloshing the liquid inside a bit, and he quickly took it from him.

"Thank you," Kurt whispered, his eyes fixed on some random point on the carpet.

"Kurt? Where are Carole and Finn?"

"Carole had a shift at the hospital overnight. She's going to keep- keep checking…" Kurt trailed off as if divulging even that small bit of information had been too much.

"And Finn?" Blaine prompted.

"He's here I guess." Kurt seemed disoriented. "Yes. He came down before he went to bed. But I didn't want to talk. So I guess he's still here."

"Kurt," Blaine said gently. "You need to get some sleep."

Kurt nodded dully.

"Come on," Blaine encouraged as the boy made no movement from his bed. "Put your pajamas on."

Kurt sat on his bed unmoving, as if he hadn't heard Blaine at all. Blaine finally moved to the chest of drawers where Kurt kept some of his wardrobe and rifled through until he found a pair of silky pajama bottoms and a matching top. The fancy set of sleepwear didn't seem much like the Kurt he knew but then, Blaine was finding that there were a lot of surprises when it came to Kurt. A lot indeed. He placed the folded clothes on Kurt's lap and at that, Kurt began to undress, almost as if on autopilot. Blaine turned and looked away, knowing that right now was not the time to indulge in his sexual fantasies involving Kurt, or deal with the heavy confusion that surrounded it all.

In a few moments, Kurt was dressed in the pajamas, looking more like a lost, little boy than Blaine had ever seen him. Even with the diamond earrings that he had in each ear, a tribute to how badass he was, he still looked so little. So afraid.

"Can you drink the rest of this?" Blaine asked, offering Kurt the tea again. Kurt took it and swallowed it in a zombie-like fashion. He shivered violently as he drained the mug.

"What is it?" Blaine asked with no small amount of concern in his voice.

"It's s-so cold," Kurt chattered helplessly.

Blaine moved from his perch on the edge of the bed and, daringly, crawled over to where Kurt was sitting, his knees drawn up to his chest against the pillows. He took his arms then and wrapped them around the other boy. Kurt initially stiffened at the touch but then seemed to relax a little bit, and finally, his whole body slumped into Blaine's, no longer having the strength to resist.

Blaine didn't miss the contented sigh that escaped Kurt's lips as he closed his eyes against Blaine's chest.

"W-will you st-stay the night?" Kurt's voice was a near whisper as he made himself vulnerable to Blaine in a way that Blaine knew was extremely rare, and also painful for him.

"Of course," Blaine said, though it wasn't an "of course" kind of question at all. Blaine very easily could've- probably should've- said no to Kurt, they both knew that. But Kurt's dad was sick, and for the boys, that made all the difference. For now, they would allow themselves this small comfort, though they would not have allowed it under any other circumstances. But tonight, Kurt just needed somebody and Blaine wanted to be that somebody. Neither was protesting.

"Okay," Kurt said in a small, peaceful voice. "Just- just tonight."

"Just tonight," Blaine repeated, pressing a kiss to the top of Kurt's head.

They stayed that way until both boys drifted into sleep, wrapping their arms even more tightly around each other while they dreamt, unrestrainedly, about a world where this could be a reality.

x-x-x-x-x-x

"Mom, would you hold on for a minute and just let me say- No! Mom, seriously."

Kurt awoke to the sounds of someone having a hushed, but furious conversation in his bathroom. He suddenly remembered: _Blaine._

"I stayed over at Quinn's last night, alright? Geez…No, I'm sorry. Yes Ma'am. Yes. Okay. Yes. I will. I'm sorry," Blaine mumbled the last few words of his conversation and hung up the phone quickly.

"Did you quell the fears of the homo detective?" Kurt asked sardonically from his position in bed when Blaine reentered his line of vision.

"Yes, the homo detective thinks I'm ensconced happily in heteroville in the arms of one Quinn Fabray," Blaine replied teasingly, flopping back onto Kurt's bed.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, behold, a miracle has occurred, he's not even trying to deny his homosexual tendencies anymore." Kurt said in a very apt imitation of an announcer's voice.

"Shut up," Blaine said, shoving him playfully.

"Make me," Kurt challenged and although Blaine realized he had walked right into that one, he was also pleased to see that Kurt's old spark had returned. Gone was the scared little boy from last night and in his place, good old regular irritating, cocky, jackass Kurt.

"Fine," Blaine replied and Kurt looked at him with raised eyebrows. Blaine shrugged a little bit and leaned over to cover Kurt's mouth with his. In all their times together, Blaine _never_ initiated and Kurt couldn't help but find it incredibly hot. His hands moved to settle on Blaine's ass as Blaine situated his body so that it was hovering above Kurt's, nipping on Kurt's bottom lip as he did so.

"Mmm my dad should have a heart attack every week, if this is what it makes you do," Kurt murmured.

Blaine pulled back suddenly, moving to the other side of the bed and running his fingers through his curls.

"Blaine?" Kurt propped himself up on his elbows.

"Kurt don't- don't say shit like that. Don't trivialize what's happening to your dad because you and I both know he means a hell of a lot more to you than that."

"If I don't…" Kurt began and then paused, letting his breath out in a shaky gust. "Fuck. I need a cigarette."

The boy moved to grope around in the back pocket of the jeans he had been wearing the night before, before locating a cigarette and his lighter. He crawled off the bed and stumbled to his door, opening it so that the chill of the late autumn morning swept away the smoke, leaving no trace of the scent in the immaculate room.

"If I don't _trivialize _it, I'll…obsess over it," Kurt finally said, after three long drags of his cigarette.

"There's nothing wrong with letting yourself _feel_ something," Blaine said softly from the bed.

"Yes there is!" Kurt's voice was no longer calm or coolly disinterested, but strangled. "You don't get it Blaine. What you saw last night- that tiny, broken, shell? That's just a glimpse of what I become when I let myself feel. I break down. I can't function. It's pathetic. It's weak," He spat bitterly into the wind that pawed at him in the open doorway.

"You can pretend you don't care about this but it won't change the fact that you love your dad."

"Now which one of us is the fag? Go give your 'emotions' speech to someone who's interested. I'm not."

"Kurt," Blaine said in protest.

"For real Anderson, get the fuck outta dodge before I beat your ass. And don't tell anyone anything."

"I would never tell anyone about this. It's your business. No one else's," Blaine answered quietly.

"Exactly. _My _business. So I get to respond however I want. I don't need your little opinions," Kurt sneered.

"Alright," Blaine said, deciding to try a different tactic. "You don't want to talk, let's fool around."

"Excuse me?" Kurt said, looking over at him sharply from where he stood leaning on the door jamb.

"You heard me. Let's. Fool. Around."

"That's what I was _trying _to do before you so rudely interrupted and tried to tell me how I should feel about my own father."

"You're right. That was wrong of me. Let me make it up to you," Blaine said simply.

"How?" Kurt asked, cocking his head dumbly.

"Come on Kurt. Don't do this to me."

"Nope. You're not getting off that easy Curly Q. You want to make it up to me, you have to tell me how. Let me see if it's gonna be worth my while."

Despite himself, Blaine found that he was smiling at Kurt's use of the old nickname.

"I'd rather show you. It's more of a hands-on kind of making-up," Blaine said with a seductive swipe of his tongue across his lips.

"I think I'd like the sound of you describing it to me."

Blaine sighed deeply. He had never in his life done _anything_ like this before. But then, he had never been involved with anyone like Kurt before. He shook his head, giving in.

"Fine. First, I'd kiss your eyelids, then your neck, then back up to your cheeks and your forehead and your jaw and chin until you were all but drooling for me to just kiss your lips already. And finally I would, but it would be a chaste kiss, slow and long, and no matter how much you wanted to slip your tongue in, I'd keep my lips sealed, teasing you. I would keep kissing you without letting you taste until you were begging and then suddenly, I would hike your legs up around my waist and back you into the wall and kiss you so hard that you'd forget your own name and that fact wouldn't even bother you because you'd be so wrapped up in just tasting me and me tasting you. I'd start to fuck your mouth with my tongue just like you love and you wouldn't be able to help but groan and rub up against my stomach because it'd remind you of _other_ kinds of fucking. And then I would take your hands and pin them up behind your head so you couldn't move, so your whole world became me, and I'd draw your bottom lip into my mouth and hold it gently between my teeth and suck on it until you were writhing against me with your whole body."

Blaine paused and chanced a look at Kurt, whose eyes were closed as he, having slid down the open door at some point during Blaine's description, now sat breathing heavily, the cigarette hanging forgotten between his fingers and his lips parted slightly.

"Do you want me to stop?" Blaine asked around a grin that he couldn't keep from stretching across his face.

"Yes," Kurt said.

"Yes?" Blaine was shocked, and suddenly felt unbelievably awkward.

"Yes, stop talking and come over here and make good on that speech you've been teasing me with."

Blaine smiled wider. He walked over to Kurt slowly, crouching down upon reaching him and gently taking the cigarette from his fingers and stubbing it out on the concrete step outside the door. He then closed the door, Kurt shifting out of the way but never opening his eyes.

Blaine leaned forward and kissed his eyelids, so softly that it was almost possible that his lips hadn't even touched them at all.

He kissed his cheeks, like he had said he would, and then his nose, and his chin and finally, painstakingly, all the way across his jaw. He even moved down to kiss Kurt's throat, hearing a soft purr emanating from him as the marshmallow-light kisses continued to the spot behind his ears and beneath his earlobes and then back to his temples and to the little patch of skin between his eyes that crinkled up when he laughed.

And then finally, Blaine kissed Kurt's parted, open lips. It was also a chaste kiss as he had said it would be, and Kurt, for once, was not greedy or demanding with his lips, but simply let Blaine control the pace. Blaine wound his fingers through the chestnut hair at the nape of Kurt's neck and continued to massage his lips lightly against Kurt's, never opening his mouth, simply enjoying the feel of Kurt's pillowy lips molding against his own, and allowing them to breathe in one another.

Finally, as Blaine could feel Kurt getting desperate, Blaine lifted the other boy up, pinning his arms up above his head and against the wall with his legs wrapped tightly around Blaine's waist, ankles hooked behind him. And he continued his infuriating assault of tantalizing, close-lipped kisses. Finally, Kurt fisted his hand in Blaine's curls and yanked the other boy's face closer to his.

"Come on, my dad is fucking dying here. At least kiss me like you mean it," he growled.

And so Blaine did. He opened his mouth and sucked on Kurt's tongue before diving in with his tongue and fucking his mouth with it, once again, just as he had described. He then removed his tongue and nipped at Kurt's bottom lip repeatedly, every time the boy tried to gain entrance into Blaine's mouth; he was met with only a sharp, teasing nip. Finally, Blaine caught the full bottom lip between his teeth and dragged it into his own mouth where he sucked on it to the point of making Kurt cry out, quietly. Blaine released Kurt's lip then and continued simply kissing him, full, open-mouthed, exploratory kisses, the kind in which it were almost as if they were rediscovering kissing, the kind in which they became lost in each other and forgot about the world existing around them.

It had never really been like this before. In fact, they hadn't done a lot of kissing in general before. It was always more about the hand jobs, or the blow jobs; the sex aspect of everything. And it was usually one person [Blaine] lavishing attention on the other person [Kurt]. Never this wholly intimate, mutualistic, slow, building, give and take that they were currently engaging in. Almost as if they were real lovers.

Both boys were thinking it, though neither dared to say it out loud. They had seen each other's cocks before but this was somehow far more intimate, and it was frightening. The intensity of the moment was building with every second that ticked by and neither could pull away.

It must be a universal truth that siblings have a habit of having the most unfortunate and yet simultaneously perfect timing, because just at that moment where things were getting too intense for either boy to know how to handle it, Finn came barreling down the stairs, all clumsy, long-legged, teenage boy.

Blaine, in his moment of instantaneous panic, dropped Kurt so that he fell with a loud thud against the carpet, cracking his elbow against the wall and planting his ass heavily on the floor. Normally, Kurt would've snapped at Blaine, but he was still too shocked and dazed from what had just occurred between them to say anything.

Blaine, on the other hand, had backed as far away from Kurt as was physically possible in that brief span of time and was standing there, lips raw and looking chapped, arms crossed defensively across his chest, with something like fear in his eyes.

"Hey-" Finn began but then stopped abruptly at the sight of Blaine.

"Blaine," he said in surprise. "What are you doing here? It's like…8:30 AM man."

"Kurt mentioned what happened to Burt and I came to uh- to, uhm, bring casserole! My mom sent me with casserole. For you guys," Blaine finished lamely.

"Where's the casserole?" Finn inquired.

"Left it!" Blaine exclaimed and even Kurt, who was still on the floor looking more mind-fucked than he ever been in his life, looked up to glare at Blaine's idiocy.

"In the car!" Blaine added on a stroke of what he felt was pure genius. "I just left it in the car. My mom would've brought it herself but she doesn't really know you all so well, so she thought it would make more sense for me to bring it, since I, I kinda know Kurt, you know?"

_Kinda know Kurt. Yeah, if by kinda, you mean I know what it's like to have his cock down my throat, then sure I "kinda" know him._

"Great!" Finn said with genuine enthusiasm, oblivious to Blaine's obviously poor attempt at lying. "Kurt, Mom just got home, and she said there's no change yet but the doctors are cautious…they're cautioning…optimus?"

"Cautiously optimistic," Blaine supplied helpfully.

"Yeah, whatever that means. I don't really get how those two words can go together," Finn said with a shrug and Blaine shook his head in wonderment at how the boy was managing to pass high school.

"It's a good thing. It means they think things are going to turn out alright although they can't say for sure," Blaine explained. Finn's face lit up in comprehension.

"That's a really good thing!"

"Yeah," Blaine said with a smile. Finn was nearly bouncing up and down.

"It means shit nothing." A dull voice sounded from the corner.

Blaine and Finn both turned to look at Kurt, who had not moved from the spot where Finn had dropped him earlier.

"What are you talking about Kurt, this is really great! The doctors wouldn't just _say_ that."

Blaine had to agree. "Yeah, they have to be so careful because of lawsuits and stuff that they're really meticulous about their word choice, which is probably the reason they said 'cautiously' at all. But honestly, if they're optimistic, we should be too. They say a coma patient can sense positive energy in the room. People willing him to get better and encouraging him, even while he's unconscious, can make a world of difference for his recovery."

Finn was looking at Blaine like he had just announced that _he_ was, in fact, the first person to walk on the moon.

"That is _so_ cool Blaine. It's totally gonna be like one of those lifetime movies Mom watches all the time. Like, the patient is in the hospital with no hope and then we go and talk to him and bam! He recovers miraculously! Maybe we can even bring a dog in or something. There was one day I actually paid attention in psych class and they talked about how dogs have been like, proven to improve the health of hospital patients. This is so freakin' cool!" Finn was giddy with excitement at all the possibilities.

"My father," Kurt said quietly, "is not a fucking lab rat in a science experiment. He is a human being and none of this stupid shit is actually going to do anything, so why don't you do us all a favor Finn and just stick your fucking 'optimism' up your ass."

Finn looked shocked at Kurt's outburst, Blaine, only sad.

"Don't even start with me," Kurt said, turning to look at Blaine. "Life is so goddamn easy for you Curly Q. Mommy and Daddy paid for everything you ever wanted. You're handsome and popular and you can have anybody in the school that your little heart desires. What the fuck do you know about hardship!" Kurt reached for the nearest thing his hand could find- the carton of cigarettes so carefully concealed in his jeans- and hurled them across the room, scattering the slender cylinders and tiny flakes of tobacco all over the floor.

Finn was staring open-mouthed, probably never having even realized before now that his brother smoked.

Blaine took a step closer to Kurt.

"I said don't Blaine. Don't!" Kurt screamed as Blaine continued to advance and pulled Kurt's slim, though long frame, easily into his strong arms, despite Kurt's fighting it.

"I know you're scared," Blaine murmured as Kurt pounded against his chest, tears beginning to slide unbidden down his flushed cheeks.

"You don't know fuck!" Kurt yelled, continuing his pathetic attempts at getting Blaine to release him, kicking and punching much in the manner of a two-year-old throwing a temper tantrum.

"It's okay to be scared," was all Blaine said, continuing to hold Kurt against his will.

"Leave me the fuck alone Anderson!" Kurt howled. "You don't know- you have no idea, what this is like! Your life has been so goddamn easy! You aren't like me, you don't know me, you never can! You don't know me!" He sobbed, his fists slowing somewhat in their onslaught as his body became too wracked with sobs to fight much longer.

"You don't know me, you don't know me," he kept repeating through his tears, even as he wilted into Blaine's embrace, bawling against the other boy's chest and clutching at his strong shoulders tightly.

Blaine just stroked his hair and allowed him to keep babbling. Finn was gaping at them both wide-eyed, frozen to his spot, unsure what to do. At Blaine's slight nod over Kurt's head, he was bounding back up the basement stairs, getting out of there as fast as he possibly could.

x-x-x-x-x-x

When Kurt finally slowed his crying, it had been a good hour or so Blaine thought, and he was sure the boy was exhausted. In fact, he _knew _he was, if the way that Kurt had fallen asleep with his head still buried in Blaine's chest and the mantra of "you don't know me," still on his lips, was any indication. Blaine had carefully carried Kurt to bed, tucking him in reverently, after wiping the snot and remaining tears from his cheeks with some tissues. He had then crept upstairs to see if Carole or Finn were around.

He first ran into Carole.

"How is he?" she said, extreme worry lacing her tone. "I would've gone down to check on him but- Finn- Finn said he was hysterical, and that you were with him, and I trust you Blaine, and I'm sorry, I should've gone down…"

"No, no it's fine, Mrs. Hummel," Blaine cut in. "Kurt _was_ hysterical. I think anyone else down there just would have sent him into another fit. He's cried himself to sleep now. It's okay, I don't mind looking after him."

Carole looked at Blaine with amazement shining in her motherly eyes. "You are such a good friend to him."

Blaine shrugged awkwardly. There it was again. That "friend" word. Blaine didn't feel like it appropriately described their relationship at all. In some ways, he didn't feel like he and Kurt weren't even close enough to call each other friends, but in other ways, he felt as though they were so much more than that. And oddly, after last night and this morning, he was finding himself much less conflicted about admitting to himself that yes, he wanted to be more than friends with Kurt. He had _liked_ being with Sam, could even imagine himself with Sam again, if it weren't for Kurt. But the fact was, there was Kurt, and that was all that would ever really matter. He could at least admit it to himself now- Kurt mattered. _And _he liked being with guys sometimes. Yeah, guys turned him on. Maybe he was bisexual. That wasn't so bad. Lots of people were doing that, right? It didn't have to be a big deal. He never had to _admit it_ to anybody.

But Kurt- Kurt was a whole different story. Blaine's feelings for Kurt went deeper than just attraction, though he hated to acknowledge that fact. He wanted Kurt, wanted to be _with_ him, desperately. There was no one else in the world he would've run to like he had run to Kurt last night, no one else whom he would've held while they cried and punched him and pushed him away. After all that, he _still_ wanted to be around. In fact, he didn't know how to _not_ be around. Kurt clearly meant something to him. He didn't want any more halfways with Kurt. He wanted- well he wanted everything with him.

God, Blaine felt dizzy just from the realization. He turned his attention back to safer things, back to what Carole was saying to him.

"…know things haven't been easy on him since Burt and I got married and Finn and I moved in and I- I've tried to reach him, I _know_ he's a special boy. But he's determined to hate me. I want him to know I'm not trying to replace his mother. I would never dream of that. I just want to love him, in whatever way he'll let me. He needs someone to love him. He's broken Blaine, just so broken. It scares me. No one that young should have that much pain. I just want to make it easier on him, but he doesn't want to let me or Finn in. Sometimes he even shuts out his father. And I've been so worried about him ever since we found out about Burt. If Burt- if he- if he doesn't make it…it will destroy Kurt. He'll never recover." Carole was shaking her head, fat tears glistening openly in her eyes.

"Don't worry," Blaine said, taking her hands in his. "I know Kurt's angry and he wants to shut everyone out right now. But I'm not going to let him shut me out. I'm not going to let this destroy him. I'm going to be here."

"Blaine," Carole said with a watery smile. She suddenly swept the unsuspecting boy into a very tight hug. Blaine felt his throat constricting painfully. He couldn't remember the last time his own mother had hugged him like this.

"I knew you were special, from the first time I met you. There was something different about you, about the way Kurt was around you. You might not have seen it, but I did. He's been so different ever since you met him. You're a godsend," the woman said through her tears. Blaine smiled, though she couldn't see him, willing the tears that were threatening at the corners of his eyes not to fall.

"I won't let you down," Blaine promised quietly, because if he spoke any louder, his voice would probably crack. Mrs. Hudson squeezed him tighter at that.

"Oh shoot," she said with a small laugh when she pulled away. "I swore I wasn't going to cry about this. Not yet. There's no reason to cry." She quickly wiped her eyes and was suddenly back to business about everything. "Now. I'm sure he'll be hungry when he wakes up. And Finn's already starving of course. A little early lunch won't hurt. I'm going to make grilled cheese and tomato soup. It's a comfort food kind of day. You're staying aren't you?"

Blaine hesitated for only a moment before answering. "Yes Ma'am."

"Please," Carole said with a wave of her hand. "No 'ma'am'. And no 'Mrs. Hudson' either. It's Carole."

"My mother would kill me," Blaine said with a smile.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her," Carole replied with a wink. "Trust me, we aren't a very fancy family around here. No need for formalities. So I'll just get a start on making lunch. Finn's up in his room playing video games I think. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you joined him, or there's a TV in the living room. I'll just make some extra for Kurt and set it aside for when he wakes up."

"Actually," Blaine said. "Would you mind if I helped you?"

"Helped me? Cook?" Carole was aghast.

"Sure," Blaine shrugged. "When I was little I used to help…Marguerite. That was our maid." He blushed a bit, embarrassed by the fact that his family used to have maids, but there was no judgment on Carole's face. He continued, "I've always liked cooking, but my mom said it was a woman's job and not fit for a boy to involve himself in. So I'm not allowed to do it anymore."

Carole snorted a bit. "Well I think she just set the feminist movement back about fifty years or so with that comment alone. But- ah- I shouldn't be criticizing your mother. That's against the parent code. Personally Dear, I think it's very sweet that you want to help me out. Finn's never in his life offered to cook anything, which is probably actually a blessing, knowing the way disaster follows him around like a magnet. But you shouldn't do it just because you feel obligated."

"No, I promise, I really would like to help."

"Alright," Carole said with a big smile, ushering Blaine into the kitchen with her.

The time passed quickly with the jobs split between them. Blaine assembled the grilled cheeses, while Carole took over the job of actually grilling them, and stirring the soup. She had been very impressed when Blaine had taken the initiative of rummaging through her spice cabinet and adding dried basil to the steaming liquid. When the soup was finished and ladled out into bowls, Blaine took a spoon and added a dollop of sour cream to the center of each bowl, also seasoning that with some fresh basil he found in their garden. Carole was amazed.

"You should help me cook every night."

"It'd be my pleasure," Blaine said around a grin.

They talked all the while they cooked, Carole asking about Blaine's social life at school, and his parents, and what he wanted to do after he graduated, and Blaine finding out a little bit more about Kurt's life prior to his move to Lima and his transfer to McKinley, as well as about the perilous unification of the Hummel-Hudson families.

"Kurt's very close with his dad you know. Always has been. But insecure too, I think. They get along wonderfully, but they don't have very much in common, you know? Used to be, Kurt would have to plead with Burt to sit down with him and have tea parties every Wednesday. Or murder mystery dinners," Carole said with a fond chuckle. "He used to set those up for his father on a fairly regular basis."

"Did Kurt tell you all of this?"

"Oh no," Carole answered. "His father did. Kurt never would've opened up to me like that. Probably would've gone against this whole 'badass' rebellion thing he's got going on. He wasn't always like this. Used to be really shy I think, a really sweet, sensitive kid. But you know how other kids are to kids like that. He was attacked. Burt figures it was inevitable that Kurt would have a rebellious stage. But he misses his sweet little boy," Carole said sadly, with all the insight of a mother.

"So has Kurt always been gay? Or I mean, has Burt always known?"

Carole chuckled again. "There was a time when- oh Kurt would kill me for telling you this- but he tried to date a girl, sort of to get his dad's attention. Made out with her and stuff, purposely when his dad was home, trying to get Burt to walk in on them. But from what I know, that's the only time Kurt's ever been with any sort of girl. Burt knew Kurt was gay when he was merely three years old. And Kurt came out when he was oh, sixteen I think. It was never really a big issue between them. I love Burt for that," Carole said, her eyes shining in a way that made Blaine know that what she said was really the truth. "It was other people that gave Kurt trouble. But even I don't know that full story." She turned back to assembling two glasses of milk on a tray along with two bowls of soup and two plates of sandwiches.

"Here. Take this down to Kurt, see if you can wake him up and get him to eat with you."

"Sure," Blaine said, grabbing a couple bottles of water from the fridge because he was sure that after all that crying, Kurt would be feeling dehydrated. And on second thought, maybe some Advil, because he'd likely have a headache too.

"Kurt's real lucky to have you in his life, Blaine," Carole said with a smile and the words absolutely wrenched at Blaine's heart. She had no idea just how much Blaine wanted to be in Kurt's life- and more than that, Kurt didn't either. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time, this newfound realization. Blaine gave Carole a small smile and headed downstairs with the tray.

Kurt was still sleeping as Blaine set the tray on the nightstand but he slowly turned and cracked open his eyes when he felt Blaine's weight shifting the bed.

"You're still here," he observed with neither disdain nor excitement in his voice.

"Yes and I've brought lunch."

"Not hungry," Kurt said, rolling back over so that he was facing away from Blaine.

"That would be relevant, if you had any choice in the matter." Blaine knew that Kurt wasn't going to make this easy and so he was done playing nice. He was going to do what he had to do in order to keep Kurt afloat.

"I seem to recall telling you to fuck off," Kurt said without turning around, though Blaine could tell from his tone that he was surprised and maybe even a little impressed with Blaine's "take-no-prisoners" attitude.

"I seem to recall not caring," Blaine replied simply.

"Are you kidding me?" Kurt sat up with a huff. "Are you really going to give me a hard time right now Anderson? My father's in the hos-"

"Yes, your father's in the hospital, which means you have to keep your shit together so you can be there for him when he wakes up."

"We don't even know if he will wake up."

"I don't think I said 'if' Kurt. I said 'when'. Now eat your fucking soup."

Kurt raised an eyebrow at Blaine, warily taking the soup and plate of sandwiches that Blaine passed to him.

"Also, take two Advil and drink some water."

Kurt did so obediently before saying in a tone that was almost meek, "You're bossy."

"Only when you're behaving like a petulant child. Now you've had a good cry, so that part's over and it's time to man up."

Kurt sighed halfway through bringing the soup spoon to his mouth and asked the question Blaine knew would be coming sooner or later.

"Why are you doing this?"

Blaine didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell Kurt the _whole_ truth, obviously. So he settled on part of it.

"Because you need me."

Kurt scoffed. "I don't need anyone."

"Whatever Kurt. You tell yourself that. I'm not leaving, either way."

Blaine thought he saw a tiny smile tug at the corner of Kurt's lips as they continued eating their soup in silence.

* * *

**Amande and Guest [from chapter 13, May 4th review]:** I'm sorry to cause heartbreak but thank you both for your kind words! To make up for my cruelty, I promise to update more often! You're both wonderful!

**Hannah: **Thank you for ALL your reviews, you are so awesome! I'm so glad you like Kurt so much, he's rather fun to write ;) I'm sad for him too, but don't worry, Blaine will take care of him. And I'm glad you liked the Blam- I did NOT like it when they were doing the canon Blam thing, but I couldn't help myself in this fic :) I agree, definitely necessary for Blaine to try out some things and figure out how he really feels. Thank you thank you, don't stop reviewing!

**jen: **Your review made my heart swell! Oh my gosh! Thank you, I tried so hard to make it as original as possible and I'm glad you think it is! Seriously, thank you so much for your lovely compliments. Haha I'd love a hundred more reviews as well, but reviews like the ones I'm getting from all you guys are more than enough- you are far too kind!

**Guest from chapter 13, May 6th**: I'm so glad I've fullfilled your fanfic fantasies :D I'm actually grinning like an idiot while I type this. I'm really glad I exceeded your expectations- maybe I need to change the description so more people will give it a chance and be [hopefully] pleasantly surprised? Ah, who knows. But thank you again! Kurt is my favorite to write, I can't help but love him, but Blaine is going to endear himself even more to us soon and I can't wait for that either.


	16. More Than Life

**A/N: Warning- some potentially triggering material in this chapter including non-con and violence. Followed by extremely toxic amounts of fluff and Klainey goodness- so sweet it makes me a little nauseous. I'm the kind of sick bastard who lives off angst, so I'm sorry but enjoy the fluff while it's here cause it won't stick around for along. Love to all who have been reviewing and saying awesome and interesting things. :) xoxox Keep reviewing and I'll keep writing! The ride's not over yet!**

**Song used in this chapter: Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran, unf**

* * *

_Belief in the breeze, the smoky morning haze  
The sun on her face, and the touch of lovers' hands  
The pain that comes today is here, then goes away.  
And we are homeward bound, and I  
I want this more than life.  
To touch something real will help your wounds heal  
Like the sun on your face, the dreams of starry nights.  
__And we are homeward bound, and I  
__I want this more than life.__  
_

-More Than Life: Whitley

Kurt was grumbling as Blaine delicately maneuvered his car into a tight space in the hospital parking lot.

"I don't know why we're doing this."

"We're visiting your father," Blaine said, as if that should be the most obvious thing in the entire world.

"No. _I'm _visiting my father. I should have said, I don't know why _you're _doing this. I don't need a babysitter Blaine." Kurt slumped down in the passenger seat, arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.

"Moral support," Blaine offered.

"The best kind of moral support you could be giving me right now is a blow job. Other than that, I think I'm all set."

Blaine laughed, actually threw back his head and laughed at that, causing the scowl on Kurt's face to become even darker.

"It's so cute when you try to use sex to deal with your social discomfort."

"Oh fuck you," Kurt said, shoving open his car door and climbing out.

Blaine scrambled to get out after him. "Hey, hey slow down."

Kurt stopped as they began approaching the shining, glass double doors of the imposing building.

"I hate hospitals," he said with a shudder.

Blaine put a hand on Kurt's shoulder, knowing that Kurt's distaste probably went deeper than an inexplicable fear of sick people or a discomfort with the bright white hallways and rubbery, medical smell.

"Because of your mom?" he asked softly.

Kurt just nodded, not volunteering up any more information, so Blaine didn't press it. He knew Kurt's mother had died, when he was young, but didn't know the particulars of the situation. But it made sense that that would have had Kurt freaking out when his dad went into the hospital, as the last time a parent had entered one of these places, she hadn't come back out.

"Come on." Blaine offered his hand to Kurt in a gesture that was surprising, considering that they were in a public place and anyone could see and they weren't really dating anyway. Kurt regarded the hand with a cold, suspicious look as though it were something dead that he was being told to eat.

"It's not fanged," Blaine said with a laugh, closing the gap between their hands and simply grabbing Kurt's in his. Kurt's hand was stiff at first, but soon relaxed into the warmth of Blaine's hand, gripping back lightly. Blaine was starting to recognize that this was a pattern in Kurt and it encouraged him. Kurt just needed someone to fight for him and eventually he would surrender. Blaine wasn't about to give up.

Together the two pushed through the hospital doors. They only made it a few steps before Kurt shuddered and turned around, almost sprinting out of the foyer and back into the rainy haze of the late autumn Saturday. Blaine quickly followed.

"Kurt!" he yelled but stopped at the sight of the other boy, leaning over a small stone wall that hedged in some flowers and shrubbery and retching into the mulch.

Blaine jogged over swiftly and put his hand on the other boy's back, rubbing in small comforting circles, the way his mom used to do when he was young and sick. Wow. That was an unexpected memory. Blaine couldn't recall when his mother last did that but he suddenly realized that she _had_ done it, he had quite a vivid picture of her doing it in his head, could actually remember the way it felt to have the gentle pressure of her hand soothing his little body. Yes, he must have been very young indeed when she did that.

"I just…I can't…I'm not…ready…" Kurt said, panting as he finished upheaving the contents of his stomach.

"It's okay," Blaine said softly. "You don't have to go yet if you can't."

"I want to," Kurt assured him, leaning back just the slightest bit into the support of Blaine's hand. "I do."

"I know," Blaine answered.

Kurt put his hands on his knees and took a deep, shaking breath, wiping the back of his mouth with his hand in disgust.

"I need some water."

"There are bottles in my car."

"And a bathroom." Kurt frowned, wrinkling his nose.

"Why don't we go to that little coffee shop over there?" Blaine indicated one that was positioned conveniently within walking distance of the hospital building. "Maybe get something to eat, relax a little."

"Well that's a classy first date if I ever heard of one Curly Q," Kurt answered with some of his trademark sass, which made Blaine sigh inwardly with relief, though the comment itself puzzled him.

"First date?"

"Well it'll be the first time you and I have ever really gone anywhere together, and it _is_ an eatery of sorts, the typical venue of dates if I'm not mistaken, so yeah, that pretty much sounds like a first date to me."

"Huh," Blaine said and suddenly he had a brilliant idea.

"What's that look on your face?" Kurt asked warily.

"You say it's a first date?"

Kurt shrugged his shoulders, knowing Blaine was trying to trap him.

"Well, if it is a first date, then you have to answer first date questions. And not be stubborn or standoffish. But act like I'm someone who you've never really talked to you before and you want to make a good impression on."

Kurt scoffed. "As if I'd ever spend a first date worrying about making a good impression on somebody. Trust me, if someone has a date with me, it's because I've _already_ made a good impression on them, and I'm just being generous enough to allow them the opportunity to return the favor." Kurt paused for a minute and then something struck him. "Wait a second. You're accepting that this could be a first date? That you could be on a first date…with me." Kurt had narrowed his eyes and was eyeing Blaine with mistrust.

"That's what you said, isn't it?"

"Yes but normally I say those things just to wig you out because it's so goddamn _easy. _You're such a homophobe Anderson."

Blaine looked at Kurt, his face genuinely offended. "I am _not _a homophobe. I'm just…careful about things okay?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Careful? Is that what they're calling it these days?"

Blaine huffed. "Do you want to go on a date with me or not?"

"Fine. I'll go. But I'm warning you now, I'm not the type to give it all up on the first date Anderson, I don't care how good of an impression you make." Kurt grinned and swatted Blaine's ass, winking.

"Uh huh," Blaine answered sarcastically as he followed Kurt toward the coffee shop. But if anyone had looked back, they would've seen that Blaine was smiling too.

x-x-x-x-x-x

"I- I had a boyfriend once."

They were sitting outside at one of the little metal tables arranged in front of the coffee shop, despite the fact that it was a chilly, drizzly sort of day, slowly sipping from their coffee cups, Kurt studiously avoiding Blaine's face as he simply opened his mouth and answered the question Blaine had never even managed to ask.

Blaine's immediate reaction was to be surprised but some part of him knew that Kurt _must _have had a boyfriend at one point, or some sort of relationship, to make him act so bitter and jaded towards the idea of them now.

Kurt didn't look like he was going to say anything else and well, _fuck_, Blaine _needed _him to say something else. He leaned forward and grabbed Kurt's free hand that was picking at the design of the metal table and squeezed it, just for a moment, in a manner he hoped was comforting. Kurt stared at their entwined hands in surprise and then, in his careful, tentative way, squeezed back so desperately that Blaine's hand felt like it was trapped in a vise and he didn't mind. Kurt let go after a moment, fortified, and drew in a shaky breath.

"When I was fifteen. _Dave,"_ Kurt said the name resentfully, shaking his head back and forth as he stared at the ground.

"It almost feels stupid calling him a boyfriend I mean- after everything- but I guess that's what he was. That's what we were. We were…_together_. I was actually stupid enough to date the guy, willingly. I was so fucking naïve back then, you know?" Kurt looked at Blaine for a brief moment, searching for some kind of understanding there. "I had no clue…" he trailed off, tearing his gaze away from Blaine's.

There was a long silence as Kurt kicked at the asphalt beneath his boots. He lit a cigarette absentmindedly and put it to his mouth, inhaling slowly. The smoke seemed to relax him. He picked at the cardboard sleeve on his coffee cup. The sound of the bell chiming as people walked in and out of the coffee shop throbbed distantly.

"I thought," Kurt's voice cracked and he cleared his throat and started again. "I thought that the way he treated me was _normal. _Nobody had ever told me. I mean, I knew abuse was wrong, but as far as I could tell he was never abusive. Just a little bit rough, maybe. But people had always been telling me I was too sensitive. And so I figured I was the problem and not him. I talked myself into the idea that gay relationships must just be different. I mean I had never seen one, so how should I know? It must just be the way we were supposed to act."

Kurt brought the cigarette back to his lips, concentrating very hard on a spot on the ground and when he spoke again, his voice was no longer broken, but cold and calloused, devoid of emotion, detached.

"But I uh," He laughed a sharp, short laugh. "I was at least smart enough to figure out that he wasn't supposed to fuck me after I told him I didn't want to."

Blaine felt his throat constrict, the corners of his vision begin to blur with white sparks.

"It gets better than that," Kurt continued with the sound of a sardonic smile still thick in his bitterly amused voice. "I mean, rape alone- that's tragic enough right? My 'first time' was- not really a first time at all. You know I had dreamt about it? I was _that kid. _I had these notions that losing my virginity was going to be this unbelievably romantic, fairy tale-esque sort of affair. I wanted candles, and flowers. Flowers." He spat the taste of tobacco from his mouth and onto the ground, as if to punctuate his own feelings of stupidity and disgust.

"What I got instead was the backseat of a car. It was sweaty and suffocating and made me nauseous and it hurt. I actually bled. Profusely. And afterwards, he beat me up because I was crying. And then he tossed me in the woods behind the bleachers at our school and told me that if I ever told anybody what he'd done, he'd finish the job."

Blaine was being was being assaulted by wave upon wave of nausea but he couldn't move from his seat. His hand felt glued to his coffee cup and if he tried to tear it away, he was sure it would peel the flesh right from the bone.

"I don't think he actually would have done it. He was just scared," Kurt said after a moment, almost thoughtfully. "Naturally, I didn't tell anyone regardless. I just said I'd been beat up by some kids who I didn't see and didn't know. Everyone suspected Dave but no one could do anything. For a while, it was awful. I would walk down the hallway at school and there he would be. I was terrified. Eventually, the guilt ate up at him so much that he turned himself in. He's in a correctional institution now. Or was, last I knew.

"Once they sent him away, I shaped up. Took boxing lessons, taekwondo, anything that would make me stronger and teach me some self-defense. And I dropped my foolish notions of romance and started fucking. And once I started fucking, even if I felt worthless, at least I was the one in control. That was all that mattered.

"But I never…I never stood up to him. If he walked in this room right now, I would fucking cower under this table like a kicked dog. He's the one person who ever got the better of me and he'll always have that control and I fucking _hate _that.

"But I feel sorry for him too. He hated who he was so much that it made him into a monster. And he took it out on me. And at least- at least I've never- I've always been okay with who I am. Even after what happened. I never wanted to be different. I wanted to be dead sometimes. But I never regretted being gay. And I don't think that's something he'll ever have."

For the first time during the story, Blaine saw tears glistening in Kurt's gorgeous, haunted eyes, and it felt like it did when he was thirteen and had been tackled during a basketball game and had the wind knocked completely from his lungs. Kurt was tearing up over his attacker's pain. He was still angry, yes, at himself _and_ Dave, and it had turned him into a hard, disillusioned castoff of the boy he had once been. But he still knew how to feel sorrow for someone else's suffering. He still believed in who he was so passionately that it broke his heart to see someone else struggling with it so profoundly. And Blaine knew in that moment that the best gift he could ever give Kurt was to love him, wholly and unashamedly, with every part of himself. The best gift he could give to Kurt was to become naked for the other boy in every single way, to allow him to see parts of Blaine he himself hadn't really looked at in years or perhaps ever. To stop holding back, to stop hiding, being afraid. To _love _Kurt and allow Kurt to love him back.

Kurt self-consciously broke the silence that had settled while Blaine was deep in the throes of these thoughts. "I don't really know why I told you all that."

"Yes you do," Blaine said softly and Kurt just looked at him, a startled, sharp glance at first, like Blaine had accused him of something. His gaze softened though as he looked into Blaine's eyes, the artic sea melting softly into lush, cooling waterfalls, spilling and brimming with all he felt and all he couldn't say and all that he wanted.

"Let's go home," Blaine said and the boys reached out and clasped hands, simple, sweet, unquestioningly, like two children on the playground. They walked together back to Blaine's car in a cloud of silence yet with more being said between them than had ever been said before.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Blaine had thought he was prepared. Blaine had been utterly and completely mistaken. Nothing could prepare him for this side of Kurt, combined with the sheer intimacy of what they were doing, overwhelming him over and over again and threatening to extinguish breath from his body entirely.

They got back to Kurt's house, emptied of Finn and Carole who each had engagements and had promised the boys to be at the hospital that evening. And so, in the quiet of an empty house, the only sound around them the gentle pitter patter of the rain caressing the roof, Kurt and Blaine touched.

It was as though it were the first time.

Every memory of what they had done before shrunk and faded and fell away. Those were two different boys in a past life. The boys standing here now, reaching for each other with trembling fingers had never touched before, had never loved each other before. It was the singular most intense thing either had ever done in his life.

They met in the middle of Kurt's bedroom, their faces dim, lit only in patches occasionally by the soft muted glow of a corner lamp. Kurt was standing there, every pore on his skin tingling, every appendage trembling furiously, paralyzed as he drank Blaine in. And so Blaine moved to close the gap between them, placing his hand on the back of Kurt's neck, rubbing slow circles just beneath his hairline with the pad of his thumb. Kurt lifted a shaking, cold hand to Blaine's cheek and pressed it, his eyes wide, conflicted with mingling emotions of fear and desire and something else that Blaine couldn't name.

Blaine had never kissed anybody so reverently before. His lips moved slowly, carefully and then pressed against Kurt's, so softly that he wasn't even sure if it had happened. Kurt's lips did not move.

Blaine kissed him again, softly, trying to draw life into the bloodless, trembling lips. He pulled back a breadth and saw Kurt in front of him, closer than he had ever seemed before, his eyes closed, face raised to accept Blaine, a perfection and innocence written on his cheekbones and eyelashes that Blaine had never before seen. He imagined that this was the Kurt from before Dave, before all the hurt and anger and bitterness. This was the Kurt who still wanted love and romance and sweetness, who still believed in fairy tales and who still clung to hope fearlessly, though it all seemed so impossible sometimes.

Blaine found that he did not love this Kurt more or less than he loved the Kurt he had met first, but that they were all simply aspects of one boy, one dear, beloved, perfect, precious boy that had nestled himself inside Blaine's heart and stalwartly refused to move, and Blaine loved and so desperately _wanted _each part of him as much as he loved and wanted the next.

Kurt raised his hands to grab each of Blaine's wrists, clenching them tightly for support and holding them in place where they bracketed either side of Kurt's face. And Blaine moved in again to take Kurt's lips and this time, Kurt was ready for him. Just as desperate and needy and aching and sweet as he was.

Blaine found himself composing poems in his head as his fingers mapped out the body before him like uncharted territory. Kurt was changing beings; Blaine saw each of them as he touched Kurt, kissed him, unraveled him, slowly dismantled him and then put him back together again.

Kurt was a young boy, clinging to the skirts of his mother and hiding from the thunder that always managed to terrify him.

Kurt was a rose in the rain, blushing and wilting with his fullness and ripeness, waiting to be plucked with flushed lips and cheeks, his hair falling onto his forehead like fragrant, bruised petals.

Kurt was a gracefully sloping, magnificent buck, standing on the forest's edge, frozen in a proud, elegant stance that portrayed exquisiteness and strength and an untouchable, ephemeral quality that made Blaine ache so much that he simply had to reach forward, had to touch, had to make sure Kurt was not about to disappear beneath his hands.

Kurt was a marble statue, a Greek portrayal of the one they called Adonis, handsome and beautiful and practically untouchable, looking carven and too perfect to be real.

Kurt was simply Kurt, as Blaine had first met him, as Blaine knew him now: a jumble of contradictory emotions and feelings, at once cocky and self-assured and broken and vulnerable and virginal and needy and adoring.

At some point Kurt had put his iPod on and Blaine would catch strains of it every once in a while, when the haze around his head momentarily cleared and he noticed things like the rain trickling down the glass panes of Kurt's bedroom windows. The lyrics drifted through the heavy air in the room and settled in his ears.

_Settle down with me  
Cover me up  
Cuddle me in  
Lie down with me  
And hold me in your arms  
_

Blaine drifted towards the bed, his lips still attached to Kurt's and ever-so-gently, he pushed Kurt, so that when the back of the boy's knees hit the bed, they gently crumpled and he landed spread out amongst the pillows, a cherubim nestled amongst clouds in the sky.

The pure perfection of this image was too much for Blaine and he had to pause for a moment to take it in and allow his breathing to steady somewhat before he crawled on top of Kurt and lowered himself gently so only an inch or two remained between their bodies. He continued to kiss Kurt, deeper into the bedclothes, until he pulled away and saw a question in Kurt's eyes, a prompting.

_And your heart's against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck  
I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet  
And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now  
_

Blaine took the opportunity to divest Kurt of his clothing, slowly, layer by layer, in a far more deliberate and awed and gradual way than he ever had before. Slowly, the rose shed his petals and there he was, naked and raw and beautiful. Blaine traced patterns across his marble chest, cupped his fingers and slid them down the soft indent starting between his pecs and gliding along his fuzz-dusted belly button, stopping at the top of his briefs. Kurt's legs, long and luxurious and also covered in fine golden-brown hair, stretched beneath Blaine, tangling with his own. Blaine placed kisses on every square inch of skin he could reach and when he felt he had paid homage as properly as he could without bursting to the available flesh, he tucked his fingers in the waist band of his briefs and slid those down, too, delicately, like unwrapping a gorgeously packaged present on Christmas morning, trying to save the paper and ribbons as well as preserve the precious thing inside.

_Settle down with me  
And I'll be your safety  
You'll be my lady  
I was made to keep your body warm  
But I'm cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms  
_

When Kurt was naked they locked eyes for a moment and the intense uncertainty in Kurt's made Blaine's heart twist painfully inside his chest. Kurt had never looked at him like that before, as though he were afraid of what Blaine might think, as though Blaine could break him or restore him and all the power rested in his small, strong, calloused hands.

"You're beautiful," Blaine whispered, remembering last time when Kurt had said it and it had felt like his childhood arrhythmia was coming back, but in a completely wonderfully frightening way. Kurt's eyes fluttered at the words and Blaine took the opportunity to kiss him senseless, never able to get enough of the taste of Kurt- sweet and smoky and lemon-tangy and sharply invading his senses and weakening him all at once.

_Yeah I've been feeling everything  
From hate to love  
From love to lust  
From lust to truth  
I guess that's how I know you  
So I hold you close to help you give it up_

When Kurt opened his eyes again, Blaine kissed him once more for reassurance and then sat up and took in the full sight of him.

"What's wrong?" Kurt murmured.

"Nothing." Blaine shook his head, biting his lip. "I've just never…I've never wanted anything so much in my whole life."

Kurt smiled then, a sweet, happy smile, like he was genuinely surprised but so glad to hear Blaine say that. Blaine swallowed and moved his eyes back to Kurt's full, blushing cock, curved smoothly against his stomach, hard and vital and waiting. Blaine brushed his fingers against it and felt Kurt arch his back gently beneath him. He continued just to touch it, painfully slowly, not even purposefully, just because he was completely entranced by it, and finally when Kurt was begging and pleading below him, he snapped out of it and placed a wet, adoring kiss on the head.

Kurt gasped a little and so Blaine continued to kiss him, taking him briefly into his mouth before releasing him again, devouring him slowly as though he were a desert that Blaine was savoring every last bite of.

Finally Blaine pulled off, leaving Kurt thrusting up in thin air, and his eyes were black lust swimming in a shallow pool of hazel and honey and green.

He swallowed thickly. "Kurt. Do you want me?"

And Kurt knew exactly what he meant. "God please. Yes. Please Blaine. I can't take anymore…I can't…I can't," Kurt murmured achingly until Blaine covered his mouth with his own.

_So kiss me like you wanna be loved  
You wanna be loved  
You wanna be loved  
This feels like falling in love  
Falling in love  
We're falling in love_

From there, things blurred a bit; no longer were there separate actions in Blaine's mind, but everything was all pushed together into one, long, beautiful, exhausting event. His fingers were lubed up before he even knew what Kurt was doing and then, as if moving on its own accord, his index was inside Kurt and he was marveling, reeling at the tightness of it all, at the heat, at the way Kurt looked below him, panting, his nose scrunched up slightly, eyelashes dusting his cheeks, one strong hand clasping Blaine's shoulder, forcing him down, further, harder and working Blaine up to three fingers that he pumped inside of Kurt, twisting them experimentally until Kurt let out a high-pitched cry and Blaine continued with renewed fervor to keep on hitting that same spot and sending Kurt closer to the edge of oblivion.

"N-now. I need you inside me now," Kurt breathed almost unintelligibly and Blaine fumbled with a condom and lube until he found himself positioned at Kurt's entrance, it looking far too small, and him feeling far too inexperienced and scared.

"Blaine it's okay," Kurt said as if he had read Blaine's thoughts and that was enough to give Blaine the courage to move, flexing his hips forward and slowly, torturously, sliding himself inside.

"Oh my God," he groaned as he bottomed out, Kurt clenching and panting beneath him. "How-how does it feel?

"Good," Kurt managed. "Full. Just…wait."

"Are you okay?"

"Definitely okay just..._shit…_shut up for a second."

Blaine nodded his assent. At this moment and time he would do absolutely anything Kurt asked him to.

"Okay," Kurt panted after a bit. "Move now."

"You've done this before haven't you?" Blaine asked worriedly as he shifted to drag back out. "_Fuck _Kurt."

"Mmm. Haven't you?"

"Shut up," Blaine tried to sound dignified but it came out as more of a needy moan. Kurt was laughing at him.

"Nngh," Kurt grunted. "I just don't typically bottom."

Blaine's eyes widened at the realization.

"But it's…fuck fuck _fuck_- it's nice. I like it."

Blaine was increasing his speed slowly, trying not to go too fast so as to completely lose it way it too soon, but wanting so badly to just let go and fly.

"You can go faster, I won't break."

"Yeah but I might," Blaine groaned but he did increase his pace so it wasn't so torturously slow for both of them.

"Kurt, you're, God, _so tight_."

Kurt simply moaned in response and Blaine thought it had to be illegal to be able to make noises that devastatingly sexy.

And then without him even realizing it, Blaine's hips were snapping faster to meet Kurt, and Kurt's legs were wrapped around Blaine's waist, ankles hooking at his back, and Kurt was letting out animalistic cries every time Blaine thrust in, and Blaine had Kurt's torso angled a few inches off the bed and he had begun to slip Kurt's cock through his fist and Kurt was clutching at pillows and keening and Blaine had no control over his own movement anymore, he just kept thrusting because he had to hear more of the beautiful sounds and when he finally could not take it any longer he came long and harder and Kurt was coming too, it decorated both of their pelvises and when it was over Blaine collapsed because he could not remember ever in his life feeling more exhausted or more blissfully satisfied.

After a few moments of lying there, attempting to catch their breath, Kurt spoke, his voice a little ragged from the noises he had been making, causing Blaine's cock to want to get hard all over again.

"I think…that's what he was talking about."

"Who?"

"My dad," Kurt bit his lip, blushing and Blaine was amazed because he had never seen Kurt blush before, especially not after all they had just done together.

"When I came out to him, he gave me a sex talk. It just about killed both of us," Kurt said, chuckling softly. "He wanted to make sure I was educated though, and he did his best, even though he really had no idea. He got me some pamphlets to explain the logistics of things. But when he talked to me, he talked about how it felt, not to have sex, but to…to make love." Kurt bit his lip in embarrassment as he said the words. "I admit, hearing about my dad and mom sleeping together is not exactly something I enjoy, but still, it was…the _way_ that he talked about it, like it was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to him in his entire life, like he could still remember every detail and he would never forget even when he was old and tucked away in a nursing home with Alzheimer's, like…it made everything better, stronger, sweeter between them…I never understood that. I used to…I used sleep with someone and then _hate_ them afterwards, hate them for fucking me and hate myself for fucking them. It would only increase their worthlessness. But now I think…I get it. He was talking about this." Kurt leaned over and tugged Blaine's hand so that he could place a reverent kiss on Blaine's knuckles and then dropped their hands so that Blaine's was resting, entwined with his own, over Kurt's gently beating heart.

Blaine shifted so that he could kiss Kurt on the mouth because he never got tired of Kurt's mouth and Kurt rolled over and softly kissed Blaine back before putting his head down and resting it on Blaine's chest, his body draped across him like a shawl.

"So you never really answered my question," Blaine murmured, letting his fingers dance lightly up and down the aching muscles in Kurt's back.

"What question?" Kurt mumbled sleepily, apparently all talked out now.

"About you having done that before."

"I'm pretty sure you know I wasn't a virgin," Kurt answered wryly.

"Uhm yes but…bottoming?" Blaine bit his lip now, feeling awkward.

"Oh." Kurt became very still for a moment. "I…what the hell, I haven't bottomed since…Dave."

"Kurt oh my God you should've told me," Blaine said, sitting up halfway in concern.

"Hey. No." Kurt forcibly tugged Blaine back down onto the pillows. "That's why I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to freak."

"But what if I- hurt you or brought back bad memories or something?"

"It was years ago Blaine. And I wanted you to top me, ok? I'm glad you did. I've never been able to bottom since him and now…I have and it feels good and I'm glad. I'm glad it was you."

Blaine felt his skin warming and a slight tingle run up the back of his neck.

"I'm glad it was you, too."

"So you were a virgin?" Kurt asked with a smirk in his voice.

"I was- well- I guess since we're being candid, I sort of…I mean I slept with Quinn one time. But I don't know if it really counts because I got sick and I had to…stop halfway because I uhm, lost my…"

Kurt threw back his head and laughed then, really laughed, and Blaine had to resist the urge to smack him. He settled for tickling him instead.

"It's not funny," he pouted as he scratched up Kurt's ribs making the other boy wriggle and squirm and shriek.

"Okay truce. Truce." Kurt fell back down against Blaine's chest, sighing. "I just…I can't believe that you still couldn't come to terms with yourself after _that_."

Blaine shifted uncomfortably. "I actually…that was the first night we ever…kissed." He said awkwardly.

"No way." Kurt tilted his head up to meet Blaine's eyes. "_That _night was the night you flaked out halfway through sex with Quinn?"

"Basically." Blaine ran a hand through his curls. "I hadn't wanted to do it but she kept pushing it and you were really pissing me off and making me crazy so I decided to just…do it. That was the day that you told me we couldn't be friends, remember?" He said the last part sort of quietly, because it still hurt a little bit.

"I remember," Kurt said, his voice equally as soft. "You scared me." He looked up at Blaine. "You still scare me. But there was only so long I could keep pushing you away."

"Thank God for that," Blaine answered, smiling as he titled his lips forward to be kissed lightly by Kurt's. "God I can't get enough of your lips, they're like a drug to me."

"Mmm and I can't get enough of your body. Any of it," Kurt answered, trailing his fingers up and down the muscles in Blaine's abdomen, sighing contentedly when some of them jumped under his touch.

"I didn't know you had a tattoo," Blaine said out of the blue, running his fingers along the design that danced down Kurt's left shoulder blade to his back, only to disappear under the blankets that were lazily arranged over him. Blaine pushed the blanket down to make out the full picture.

"You are wildly unobservant," Kurt murmured, relishing the way Blaine's fingertips were tracing the tattoo with feather light touches.

"What does it mean?" Blaine asked.

"You don't see it?"

Blaine sat up and looked closer. What he had mistaken at first for simply a colorful picture was actually several intertwining designs, trailing intricately down Kurt's back. There was a picture of Peter Pan, swinging from the tail of the Chesire Cat who was grinning at Little Red Riding Hood who was running away toward the candy house from Hansel and Gretel. A mermaid swam playfully while above her Sleeping Beauty's dragon breathed fire. There was a pumpkin coach complete with mice for horses and a roaring Beast in a snowy forest. The more Blaine stared, the more little things he caught, like the pocket watch from Alice and Wonderland and even Willy Wonka's top hat. "Kurt oh my God…this is…amazing."

"Incredibly nerdy, really. But it uh. Well it means a lot to me. It reminds me of my mom. And the way things used to be. Before I had to grow up."

Blaine shifted so that he could kiss up it, softly. Kurt rolled his eyes from where he lay, his chin on a pillow. "It's sort of embarrassing really."

"Kurt shut _up_. This is seriously the coolest thing I have ever laid eyes on."

Kurt flushed a little bit. "I don't really show people it often. It's…personal."

"It's beautiful."

"My dad let me get it when I was sixteen, after everything with Dave. I had…a lot of scars on the left side of my body and I wanted to cover them up. And my mom always loved fairy tales, which is probably why I loved them. She loved stories. She would read them to me, even after she got cancer and she...well I just. I wanted to hold on to that innocence and to her." Kurt finished speaking quickly, seeming self-conscious.

"You're a pretty special guy Kurt Hummel," Blaine murmured.

"You're not so bad yourself," Kurt replied grinning and Blaine knew that coming from Kurt, the compliment was huge. All of this was, really.

"So I thought you said you don't put out on the first date," Blaine teased as Kurt settled back against him.

"Oh…you're right. I take it all back then," Kurt said grinning wickedly.

"There's no way I'm letting you take that back, any of it. I have elaborate plans for a repeat session in the near future."

"Oh you do now?"

"Yes," Blaine said around a yawn. "But I think we need to rest up first. Replenish our strength."

Kurt laughed softly. "Normally I'd be kicking you out of here right about-" he paused looking thoughtful. "Fifteen minutes ago."

"Mmm I know. I've been that guy with you before, remember?" Blaine replied.

"No, you were never really _that guy. _I wanted you to be. But turns out, you're not that easy to get rid of Mr. Anderson."

"Get used to it," Blaine said and smothered Kurt's lips again.

They fell asleep that way, wrapped up in one another, and for a few simple, peaceful hours they got to be blissfully unaware of anything but each other, though time and humans alike moved along outside of their sheltered little corner of the world.


	17. Our Little Corner Of The World

**A/N: Yikes! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry times one million and ten chocolate chip cookies. I have this new job which has been basically killing me, in the best way possible, but it leaves me going to bed at like 8 o'clock every night with no energy whatsoever to spare. I feel awful about the delay and about how many of you darling people have let me know you're still here, eagerly awaiting more. So here, have a very very mini chapter to tide you over and I will try my very very best to get something more substantial up SOON. I'm sorry lovelies, I hope you haven't abandoned me! I will try harder! xoxox always **

* * *

_Come along with me to my little corner of the world_  
_Dream a little dream in my little corner of the world  
You'll soon forget that there's any other place  
Tonight, my love, we'll share a sweet embrace  
__And if you care to stay in my little corner of the world_  
_We could hide away in my little corner of the world_  
_I always knew that I'd find someone like you_  
_So welcome to my little corner of the world_

-My Little Corner of the World: Yo La Tengo

Their own little world didn't last for long. It was Kurt who woke up first, rolling over and finding himself startled to discover another sleeping form in his bed. It took him a second for all the day's events to resurface through the fog in his brain. Blaine. He had slept with Blaine. God he had more accurately _made love _to Blaine. He had never even let anybody nap in his bed after sex, much less whatever _this _had been.

He felt a little queasy; what little food he had consumed at the coffee shop threatening to erupt from his stomach.

Kurt shifted toward the edge of the bed, unable to ignore the skip in his chest at the pleasing way Blaine's curls lay gently down over his forehead- mussed and in disarray from their activities. He shuffled over to his clothes anyway, picking up each article and carefully, quietly, redressing.

"Mmm Kurt?" A sleep-addled mumble came from beneath the white comforter of Kurt's bed, Blaine's hand groping at the empty space next to him.

He squinted his eyes open. "You're up."

"I am," Kurt responded matter-of-factly.

"You're dressed."

Kurt glanced at his socked feet, briefs and undershirt also snugly in place. "Just about."

"Planning on sneaking out? I gotta say that's pretty low, even for you Hummel. This is your own house."

"Knock it off," Kurt said, somewhat irritably. "I just wanted some air."

"Sure you did."

Blaine got up then too, letting the covers slide off of him so his naked body was in full view of Kurt. Kurt couldn't help but stare, his mouth watering a bit involuntarily, and Blaine knew it. It pissed Kurt off.

Blaine reached for his own clothes.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving," Blaine answered as though it should be the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not playing this game with you Kurt. We slept together- like _really_ slept together- and it meant something okay, and I just- no. If you want to pretend like it didn't mean anything, then I'm done. I'm tired of half-assing this shit with you Kurt. Either we're together or we aren't."

"What the fuck?"

"I think you heard and understood what I said perfectly fine Kurt," Blaine answered coldly as he tugged on his socks.

"Blaine you can't- do that." Kurt was staring at Blaine, dumb-founded, stock still in the middle of his bedroom.

"I can and I should've along time ago."

"Come _on _Blaine." Now Kurt sounded like he was whining. "That was the whole good thing about this; it's not like other relationships. We don't have to make it exclusive or label anything or get all worried about emotions and shit. It's just fun."

"Not for me. This is a big deal for me. I don't just sleep with people, Kurt."

"Quinn!" Kurt tossed at him.

"Is my girlfriend! One who I shouldn't even be dating anymore if we're being completely honest. Do you even- do you even realize what any of this means Kurt? What I'm giving up for you, and what you're in turn throwing back in my face?"

"Blaine, I like you, okay? I like you a lot. Isn't that enough? Isn't that all we need?" If Blaine didn't know any better, he could've almost sworn Kurt sounded frantic.

"It's not enough. Not for me. I'd be coming out for you Kurt. Giving up everything. The least I expect is for you to give me everything in return."

"But that's just it- I'm not asking you to give up anything at all! You can have your stupid girlfriend and your fake heterosexuality with your jackass heterosexual friends and your football team and your popularity. No one's telling you to give any of that up." Kurt had his hands up in the air, looking fully perplexed, helpless, and it was nice, for once, to see him looking unraveled and desperate, like he _needed _something, like he wasn't perfectly unaffected and in control.

"You really are fucked up pretty bad aren't you?" Blaine asked, a look of deep sympathy passing over his handsome features. He was fully dressed now and on his way out the door, while Kurt remained standing there in his underwear and undershirt and those ridiculous black socks.

"You should probably call Carole. We slept for a while; she's likely worried," Blaine urged as he slipped through the door. It was maddening, how he could act so nonchalant, like this was nothing at all, just acquaintances exchanging niceties, not a…break up.

Because that's what it was, for all intents and purposes, if he let Blaine go now. A break up. And one for a stupid reason at that. Kurt hurdled himself out the door.

The rain had slowed but not stopped, leaving the grass muddy and causing Kurt's bedhead to become matted and dripping against his forehead, his pink cheeks standing out even more against the pale of his skin and the blue of his eyes. His t-shirt clung to him, his socks slipped against the slight incline as he scrambled up the grass after Blaine's retreating figure.

"Wait!"

Blaine turned as he reached his car, his head shrouded by the hood of his coat, face revealing nothing, silent.

"Will you," Kurt stopped for a moment, gasping to catch his breath, the rain trickling from his eyelashes into his eyes, blurring all vision. "Will you go out with me?"

"What?" Blaine yelled. They stood only a few yards from each other, but with the rain and Kurt's breathless tone, he supposed he wasn't so easy to hear.

"Will you go out with me?" he shouted.

Blaine stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed a bit, saying nothing. "What does that even mean?" he returned.

Kurt huffed exasperatedly. "For Christ's sakes Anderson, will you be my boyfriend or not?"

And Blaine smiled then. And it wasn't a fake smile, and it wasn't sarcastic or strained or polite. It was that hundred mega watt, light-up-a-town smile, the one that made Kurt's stomach do gymnastic flips, the one that he often felt might be the reason he was on this earth at all- just to make that smile appear.

And in about two seconds flat he was on Kurt, slip-sliding over the grass to where he stood in his underwear, nearly bowling him over as he sloppily pressed their lips together.

"I swear Kurt Hummel, you'll be the end of me." Blaine said between frantic kisses up and down Kurt's neck, his face, his jaw.

"I make things interesting," Kurt quipped back, unable to keep a smile off his face as Blaine continue to assault him with kisses.


End file.
